BY THE YELLOW SANI>i 



SHAKESPEARE 
TERCENTENARY 

• MASOyE 




Class h' S 7) fT ^ ^ 
Book . A ^ ^ G g. r 



CopyiiglitN°_ 



1914, 



COPVRIGHT DEPOSm 



WORKS BY PERCY MACKAYE 

DRAMAS 
The Canterbury Pilgrims. A Comedy. 
Jeanne d'Arc. A Tragedy. 
Sappho and Phaon. A Tragedy. 
Fenris The Wolf. A Tragedy. 
A Garland to Sylvia. A Dramatic Reverie. 
The Scarecrow. A Tragedy of the Ludicrous. 
Yankee Fantasies. Five One-act Plays. 
Mater. An American Study in Comedy. 
Anti-matrimony. A Satirical Comedy. 
To-morrow. A Play in Three Acts. 
A Thousand Years Ago. A Romance of the Orient. 
The Immigrants. A Lyric Drama. 

MASQUES 
Caliban. A Shakespeare Masque. 
Saint Louis. A Civic Masque. 
Sanctuary. A Bird Masque. 
The New Citizenship. A Civic Ritual. 

POEMS 
The Sistine Eve, and Other Poems. 
Uriel, and Other Poems. 
Lincoln. A Centenary Ode. 
The Present Hour. 
Poems and Plays. In Two Volumes. 

ESS A YS 
The Playhouse and the Play. 
The Civic Theatre. 
A Substitute for War. 

AT ALL BOOKSELLERS 

Uniform with this volume 

SAINT LOUIS: A Civic Masque 

as enacted by 7,000 CITIZENS OF SAINT LOUIS 



CALIBAN 




PRELIMINARY SKETCH OF SETEBOS, BY JOSEPH URBAN 



CALIBAN 

BY THE YELLOW SANDS 



uj dUyS^ 



Percy MacKaye 




Garden City New York 

DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY 

1916 



ENDORSED BY THE DRAMA LEAGUE OF AMERICA 






Copyright, igi6, by 
Percy MacKaye 

All rights reserved, including that of 

translation into foreign languages, 

including the Scandinavian 

All acting rights, afid motion picture rights, are reserved 

by tlie author in the United States, Great Britain 

and countries of the copyright Union 



SPECIAL NOTICE 
Regarding Public Performances and Readings 



No performance of this Masque — professional or amateur — and 
no public reading of it may be given without the written permission 
of the author and the payment of royalty. 

The author should be addressed in cars of the publishers. 

During the Shakespeare Tercentenary season of 1916, the Masque 
— after its New York production at the City College Stadium., May 
23, 24, 25, 26, 27 — will be available for production elsewhere, on a 
modified scale of stage performance. 

With proper organization and direction, amateur participants 
may take part in performances .with or without the Interludes. 

For particulars concerning performances wholly amateur, address 
Miss Clara Fitch, Secretary Shakespeare Tercentenary Committee, 
736 Marquette Building, Chicago, 111. 

After June first, a professional company, which will cooperate 
with local communities, will take the Masque on tour. For partic- 
ulars address Miss. A. M. Houston, Drama League of America, 736 
Marquette Building, Chicago, 111. 




APR 18 1916 
5)CU4277.12 



"Come unto these yellow sands, 
And then take hands I" 

The Tempest, 



CALIBAN 

BY THE YELLOW SANDS 

A COMMUNITY MASQUE 
Of the Art of the Theatre 

Devised and Written to Commemorate the 

Tercentenary of the Death of 

SHAKESPEARE 

Illustrations by 
Joseph Urban & Robert Edmond Jones 



TO . THE , ONLIE 

BEGETTER . OF . THE . BEST 

IN . THESE . INSUING 

SCENES 

MASTER . W . S 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS AND CHARTS 

Cover Design: "When the kings of earth clasp 
hands" (Act II, Second Inner Scene). By 
Robert Edmond Jones. 

Preliminary Sketch of Setebos. By Joseph Urban 

Frontispiece ^ 

FACING PAGE 

Ground Plan for Auditorium (with Stages of 
Masque Proper and Interludes). By Joseph 
Urban xxx -^ 

Design of Stage for Masque Proper. By Joseph 

Urban xxxii --"' 

Preliminary Sketch for Seventh Inner Scene. By 

Robert Edmond Jones 98 -"^ 

Preliminary Sketch for Tenth Inner Scene. By 

Robert Edmond Jones 138 '^ 

APPENDIX 

Inner Structure of Masque (Chart). By Percy 

MacKaye 154 '^ 

A Community Masque Audience (Photograph). 

By E. O. Thalinger 156- 

Community Masque Organization Plan (Chart). , 

By Hazel MacKaye t-S^ 



CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Preface xiii 

Masque Structure xxix 

Persons and Presences xxxi 

Prologue 3 

First Interlude 32 

Act I 34 

Second Interlude 76 

Act II 78 

Third Interlude no 

Act III Ill 

Epilogue 142 

Appendix 147 



PREFACE 

Three hundred years alive on the 23rd of April, 1916, 
the memory of Shakespeare calls creatively upon a 
self-destroying world to do him honor by honoring 
that world-constructive art of which he is a master 
architect. 

Over seas, the choral hymns of cannon acclaim his 
death; in battle-trenches artists are turned subtly in- 
genious to inter his art; War, Lust, and Death are risen 
in power to restore the primeval reign of Setebos. 

Here in America, where the neighboring waters of his 
"vexed Bermoothes" lie more calm than those about 
his own native isle, here only is given some practical 
opportunity for his uninterable spirit to create new 
splendid symbols for peace through harmonious inter- 
national expression. 

As one means of serving such expression, and so, if 
possible, of paying tribute to that creative spirit in forms 
of his own art, I have devised and written this Masque, 
at the invitation of the Shakespeare Celebration Com- 
mittee of New York City. 

The dramatic-symbolic motive of the Masque I have 
taken from Shakespeare's own play ''The Tempest," 



xiv PREFACE 

Act I, Scene 2. There, speaking to Ariel, Prospero 

says: 

"Hast thou forgot 

The foul witch Sycorax, who with age and envy 

Was grown into a hoop? . This damn'd witch Sycorax, 

For mischiefs manifold and sorceries terrible 

To enter human hearing . was hither brought with child 

And there was left by the sailors. Thou . . 

Wast then her servant; 

And, for thou wast a spirit too deh'cate 

To act her earthly and abhorred commands, 

Refusing her grand bests, she did confine thee, 

By help of her most potent ministers 

And in her most unmitigable rage. 

Into a cloven pine, within which rift 

Imprisoned thou didst painfully remain . . 

Then was this island — 

Save for the son that she did litter here, 

A freckled whelp hag-born — not honor'd with 

A human shape . . . that Caliban 

Whom now I keep in service. Thou best know'st 

What torment I did find thee in, . . it was a torment 

To lay upon the damn'd . . // was mine art, 

When I arrived and heard thee, that made gape 

The pine and let thee out. " 

"It was mine art" . . There — in Prospero's words 
[and Shakespeare's] — is the text of this Masque. 



PREFACE XV 

The art of Prospero I have conceived as the art of 
Shakespeare in its universal scope: that many-visioned 
art of the theatre which, age after age, has come to liber- 
ate the imprisoned imagination of mankind from the 
fetters of brute force and ignorance; that same art which, 
being usurped or stifled by groping part-knowledge, 
prudery, or lust, has been botched in its ideal aims and — 
Hke fire ill-handled or ill-hidden by a passionate child — 
has wrought havoc, hypocrisy, and decadence. 

Caliban, then, in this Masque, is that passionate 
child-curious part of us all [whether as individuals or as 
races], grovelling close to his aboriginal origins, yet 
groping up and staggering — with almost rhythmic falls 
and back-shdings — toward that serener plane of pity and 
love, reason and disciplined will, where Miranda and 
Prospero commune with Ariel and his Spirits. 

In deference to the master-originator of these charac- 
ters and their names, it is, I think, incumbent on me to 
point out that these four characters, derived — but re- 
imagined — from Shakespeare's "The Tempest," be- 
come, for the purposes of my Masque, the presiding 
symbolic Dramatis Personce of a plot and conflict which 
are my own conception. They are thus no longer Shake- 
speare's characters of ''The Tempest," though born of 
them and bearing their names. 

Their words [save for a very few song-snatches and 
sentences] and their actions are those which I have given 



xvi PREFACE 

them; the development of their characters accords with 
the theme — not of Shakespeare's play but of this Masque, 
in which Caliban's nature is developed to become the 
protagonist of aspiring humanity, not simply its butt of 
shame and ridicule. 

My conception and treatment also of Setebos [whose 
name is but a passing reference in Shakespeare's play], 
the fanged idol [substituted by me for the "cloven pine "]; 
of Sycorax, as Setebos' mate [in form a super-puppet, an 
earth-spirit rather than "witch"], from both of whom 
Caliban has sprung; of the Shakespearian Inner Scenes, 
as brief -flashing visions in the mind of Prospero; of the 
"Yellow Sands" as his magic isle, the world; these are 
not liberties taken with text or characters of Shakespeare; 
they are simply the means of dramatic license whereby 
my Masque aims to accord its theme with the art and 
spirit of Shakespeare. 

Shakespeare's own characters, that use his words ^ 
in scenes of his plays, have then no part in my Masque, 
except in the Inner Scenes,^ where they are conceived as 
being conjured by Prospero and enacted by the Spirits of 
Ariel. 



iThe words of Shakespeare used in this Masque, are quoted from the 
Tudor Edition of Shakespeare's Works, edited by Neilson and Thorn- 
dike (Macmillan). The stage directions and cuts, however, are not taken 
from any edition, but have been made by me for purposes of the Inner 
Scenes. 

^n this book these Inner Scenes are printed in black-faced type. 



PREFACE xvii 

The theme of the Masque — Caliban seeking to learn 
the art of Prospero — is, of course, the slow education of 
mankind through the influences of cooperative art, that 
is, of the art of the theatre in its full social scope. This 
theme of cooperation is expressed earhest in the Masque 
through the lyric of Ariel's Spirits taken from "The 
Tempest"; it is sounded, with central stress, in the 
chorus of peace when the kings clasp hands on the Field 
of the Cloth of Gold;^ and, with final emphasis, in the 
gathering together of the creative forces of dramatic art in 
the Epilogue. Thus its motto is the one printed on the 
title page, in Shakespeare's words: 

"Come unto these yellow sands 
And then take hands. " 

So much for my Masque in its relationship to Shake- 
speare's work and his art. Its contribution to the 
modern development of a form of dramatic art unprac- 
tised by him requires some brief comment. 

This work is not a pageant, in the sense that the 
festivals excellently devised by Mr. Louis N. Parker in 
England, Mr. Lascelles in Canada, or Mr. Thomas 
Wood Stevens in America have been called pageants. 
Though of necessity it involves aspects of pageantry, its 
form is more closely related to the forms of Greek drama 

^This is the motive of Mr. Robert Edmond Jones' cover design for 
this volume. 



xviii PREFACE 

and of opera. Yet it is neither of these. It is a new 
form to meet new needs. 

I have called this work a Masque, because — like other 
works so named in the past — it is a dramatic work of 
symbolism involving, in its structure, pageantry, poetry, 
and the dance. Yet I have by no means sought to relate 
its structure to an historic form; I have simply sought 
by its structure to solve a modern [and a future] problem 
of the art of the theatre. That problem is the new one of 
creating a focussed dramatic technique for the growing 
but groping movement vaguely called "pageantry," 
which is itself a vital sign of social evolution — the half- 
desire of the people not merely to remain receptive to a 
popular art created by specialists, but to take part 
themselves in creating it; the desire, that is, of democrac}- 
consistently to seek expression through a drama of and by 
the people, not merely for the people. 

For some ten years that potential drama of democracy 
has interested me as a fascinating goal for both dramatist 
and citizen, in seeking solution for the vast problem of 
leisure.^ Two years ago at Saint Louis I had my first 
technical opportunity, on a large scale, to experiment in 
devising a dramatic structure for its many-sided require- 

'An outline of suggestions on this subject I published in a volume, 
"The Civic Theatre, in Relation to the Redemption of Leisure" [1912]. 
Further ideas and their applications are contained in the prefaces and 
dramatic texts of my Bird Masque " Sanctuarj^, " "Saint Louis: A 
Civic Masque," and "The New Citizenship," a Civic Ritual. 



PREFACE xix 

ments. There, during five performances, witnessed by 
half a million people, about seven thousand citizens of 
Saint Louis took part in my Masque [in association with 
the Pageant by Thomas Wood Stevens]. In the appen- 
dix of this volume a photograph gives a suggestion of one 
of those audiences, gathered in their public park [in seats 
half of which were free, half pay-seats] to witness the 
production. ^ 

That production was truly a drama of, for, and by the 
people — a true Community Masque; and it was largely 
with the thought of that successful civic precedent that 
the Shakespeare Celebration first looked to Central 
Park as the appropriate site to produce their Community 
Festival, the present Masque, as the central popular 
expression of some hundreds of supplementary Shake- 
spearean celebrations. 

In so doing, they conceived the function of a public 
park — as it is conceived almost universally west of the 
Eastern States, and almost everywhere in Europe — to 
be that of providing outdoor space for the people's 
expression in civic art-forms. 

The sincere opposition of a portion of the community 
to this use of Central Park would never, I think, have 
arisen, if New York could have taken counsel with Saint 

^The outgoing cost of the Saint Louis production was $122,000; 
the income $139,000. The balance of $17,000 has been devoted to a 
fund for civic art. The cost of producing a single play by Sophocles 
at Athens was $500,000. 



XX PREFACE 

Louis's experience, and its wonderfully happy civic and 
social reactions. The opposition, however, was strong 
and conscientious; so that, on the same principle of 
community soHdarity which was the raison d'etre for 
their informal application to use Central Park, the 
Shakespeare Celebration withdrew their wish to use it. 
To spht community feeling by acrimonious discussion 
was contrary to the basic idea and function of the Cele- 
bration, which are to help unite all classes and all behefs 
in a great cooperative movement for civic expression 
through dramatic art. 

One very important public service, however, was per- 
formed by this Central Park discussion; it served clearly 
to point out a colossal lack in the democratic equipment 
of the largest and richest metropolis of the western 
hemisphere: namely, the total lack of any public place 
of meeting, where representative numbers of New York 
citizens can unite in seeing, hearing, and taking part in a 
festival or civic communion of their own. New York, a 
city of five million inhabitants, possesses no public 
stadium or community theatre. Little Athens, a mere 
village in comparison, had for its heart such a community 
theatre, which became the heart of civilization. Without 
such an instrument, our own democracy cannot hope to 
develop that cooperative art which is the expression of 
true civilization in all ages. 

Happily for the Shakespeare Celebration and its aims, 



PREFACE xxi 

a large measure of solution has, at the date of this preface, 
been attained by the gracious offer of the New York City 
College authorities, through President Mezes, to permit 
the use of the Lewisohn Stadium and athletic field, 
temporarily to be converted into a sort of miniature Yale 
Bowl, for the production of the Shakespeare Masque 
on the night of May 23rd and the following four 
nights. 

By the brilliant conception and technical plans of Mr. 
Joseph Urban for joining to the present concrete stadium 
of Mr. Arnold Brunner its duplicate in wood, on the east 
side of the field, and so placing the stage on its narrower 
width to the north, there will be created a practical out- 
door theatre, remarkable in acoustics, qualified to accom- 
modate in excellent seats about twenty thousand spec- 
tators, and some two or three thousand participants in 
the festival. 

If such a consummation shall eventually become per- 
manent there, it will complete the realization of a prac- 
ticable dream already rendered partly complete by Mr. 
Adolf Lewisohn's public-spirited donation of the present 
concrete structure. Referring to that practicable dream, 
I wrote four years ago in my volume "The Civic Thea- 
tre":^ "One day last spring, traversing with President 
John Finley the grounds lately appropriated, through his 
fine efforts, by the City of New York for a great stadium at 

Tage 71, on Constructive Leisure (Mitchell Kennerley, 191 2). 



xxii PREFACE 

the City College, I discussed with him the splendid op- 
portunity there presented for focussing the popular en- 
thusiasm toward athletic games in an art dramatic and 
nobly spectacular. " 

This new dramatic art-form, then — a technique of the 
theatre adapted to democratic expression and dedicated 
to public ser\ace — I have called by the name Community 
Masque, and have sought to exemplify it on a large scale 
in two instances, at Saint Louis and at New York. 

The occasion of this preface is not one to discuss the 
details of that new technique further than to suggest to 
the public, and to those critics who might be interested 
to make its implications clearer than the author and direc- 
tor of a production has time or opportunity to do, that 
the exacting time limits of presenting dramatically a 
theme invoking many dissociated ages, through many 
hundreds of symbolic participants and leaders, are con- 
ditions which themselves impel the imagination toward 
creating a technique as architectural as music, as color- 
ful as the pageant, as dramatic as the play, as plastic as 
the dance. 

That my own work has attained to such a technique 
I am very far from supposing. I have, however, clearly 
seen the need for attaining to it, whatever the difficulties, 
if a great opportunity for democracy is not to be lost. 
To see that much, at a time when the vagueness of ama- 
teurs, however idealistic in desire, is obscuring the aus- 



PREFACE xxiii 

tere outlines of a noble technical art looming just beyond 
us, may perhaps be of some service. 

As visual hints to the structure (Inner and Outer) of 
the present Masque, the charts here published may be 
suggestive to the reader. To the reader as such it re- 
mains to point out one vital matter of technique, namely, 
the relation of the dramatic dialogue to the Masque's 
production. 

Even more than a play [if more be possible], a Masque 
is not a realized work of art until it is adequately pro- 
duced. To the casual reader, this Masque, as visualized 
merely on these printed pages, may appear to be a struc- 
ture simply of written words: in reahty it is a structure 
of potential interrelated pantomime, music, dance, light- 
ing, acting, song [choral and lyric], scene values, stage 
management and spoken words. 

Words spoken, then, constitute in this work but one 
of numerous elements, all relatively important. If no 
word of the Masque be heard by the audience, the plot, 
action, and symboHsm will still remain understandable 
and, if properly produced, dramatically interesting. 
Synchronous with every speech occur, in production, 
effects of pantomime, lighting, music, and movement 
with due proportion and emphasis. Such, at least, is 
the nature of the technique sought, whether or not this 
particular work attains to it. 

A Masque must appeal as emphatically to the eye as a 



xxiv PREFACE 

moving picture, though with a different appeal to the 
imagination. 

Because of this only relative value of the spoken word, 
there are many producers [theoretical and practical] who 
believe that the spoken word should be eliminated en- 
tirely from this special art of the theatre. 

Artists as eminent and constructive in ideas as Gordon 
Craig, and many whom his genius has inspired, advocate 
indeed this total elimination of speech from the theatre's 
art as a whole. For them that art ideally is the com- 
pound of only light and music and movement. The 
reason for this, I think, is because the sensibility of those 
artists is preeminently visual. Moreover, they are rela- 
tively inexpert, as artists, in the knowledge of the 
technique and values of the spoken word. Being visu- 
ally expert and creative, they have, by their practical 
genius, established a world-wide school of independent, 
visual art [assisted only by mass sounds of music]. 

For them this art has well nigh become the art of the 
theatre. Yet it is not so, I think, and can never be so, 
to that watching and listening sensibihty for which all 
dramatic art is created — the soul of the audience. That 
soul, our soul, is a composite flowering of all the senses, 
and the life-long record of the spoken word [reiterated 
from childhood] is an integral, yes, the most intimate, 
element of our consciousness. 

The association of ideas and emotions which only the 



PREFACE XXV 

spoken word can evoke is, therefore, a dramatic value 
which the art of the theatre cannot consistently ignore. 
It is chiefly because those artist-experts in word values, 
the poets, who might contribute their special technique 
to the theatre's art, turn elsewhere creatively, that the 
field is left unchallenged and open to the gifted school of 
the visualists. The true dramatic art — which involves 
ideally a total cooperation — does not, and cannot, ex- 
clude the poet-dramatist. Shakespeare and Sophocles 
lived before electric hght; if they had Hved after, they 
would have set a different pace for Bakst and Reinhardt, 
and established a creative school more nobly poised in 
technique, more deeply human in appeal. 

Now, therefore, when the poets are awaking to a new 
power and control of expression, here especially in our 
own country, if they will both learn and teach in this 
larger school, there rises before us the promise of an art 
more sensuous, sane, and communal than the theatre has 
ever known. 

So, in the pioneering adventure of this Masque, which 
seeks by experiment to relate the spoken word to its 
larger cooperation with the visual arts, I have devised 
a structure in which the EngHsh language, spoken by 
actors, is an essential dramatic value. 

Why, then, take pains [as I have done] to make it rela- 
tively non-essential in case it should not be heard? 

For this reason: that now — at the present temporary 



xxvi PREFACE 

and still groping stage of development of community 
Masque organization and production — there can be, in 
the nature of the case, no complete assurance beforehand 
of adequate acoustics in setting, or of voices trained to 
large-scale outdoor speech. 

But, if this be so, would it not be the wiser part of 
creative valor to adapt my structure wholly to these ele- 
mentary conditions, risk nothing, and devise simply panto- 
mime? 

No, for by that principle no forward step for the spoken 
word could ever be taken. // we are to progress in this 
new art, we must seek to make producing conditions con- 
form to the spoken play, even more than the play to those 
conditions. 

/ And this can be done; it has been done. 
' At Saint Louis the vast amphitheatre for my Masque 
was at first considered, by nearly all who saw it, to be 
utterly unsuited to the spoken word; yet, after careful 
study, experiment and technical provision for its use, the 
speech of actors was heard each night by at least two- 
thirds of the hundred and fifty thousand listeners. Of the 
seven thousand actors only about fifteen spoke, but these 
conveyed the spoken symbolism and drama of the action. 

In the present Masque I have focussed the spoken 
word on the raised constructed stage of wood [A. and B. 
in the Chart] , confined it to the speech of eight principal 
acting parts, and about twenty other subordinate parts, 



PREFACE xxvii 

whose speaking lines [from Shakespeare's plays] are 
still further focussed at the narrower inner stage TA. in 
the Chart], provided with special sounding boards. 

On the other hand, for the ground-circle of the "Yellow 
Sands" [C. in the Chart], where the thousands of partici- 
pants in the Interludes take part under an open sky, I 
have provided no spoken words, but only pantomime, 
mass movements, dances and choruses. 

To the reader, then, I would repeat, that the words of 
this printed Masque are an essential, though not an ex- 
clusive, part of its structure, and are meant primarily to 
be spoken, not primarily to be read. 

As in the case of my Civic Ritual "The New Citizen- 
ship"^ this Masque can only have its completely ade- 
quate production on a large and elaborate scale. Like 
the Civic Ritual, however, which — originally designed 
for the New York stadium — is being performed on an 
adapted scale in many parts of the country, in schools 
and elsewhere, this Masque may perhaps serve some good 
purpose in being made available for performance in a 
smaller, simpler manner, adapted to the purposes of 
festivals during this year of Shakespeare's Tercentenary. 
At the invitation, therefore, of Mr. Percival Chubb, 
President of the Drama League of America, who first 
suggested to me the writing of a Memorial Masque to 
Shakespeare, the publishers have made arrangements 

Wew York, 1915, Macmillan. 



xxviii PREFACE 

with officers of the Drama League for making known its 
availability as stated in their announcement printed at 
the back of this volume. 

The accompanying stage-designs are the work of Mr. 
Joseph Urban, the eminent Viennese artist and producer 
[who has recently become an American], and of Mr. 
Robert Edmond Jones, designer of the scenes and cos- 
tumes for Mr. Granville Barker's production of "The 
Man Who Married a Dumb Wife. " 

At the date of this preface, Mr. Arthur Farwell has near- 
ly completed his compositions for the lyric choruses and 
incidental music of the Masque. The choruses will shortly 
be made available, published by G. Schirmer, New York. 

With all three of these artists I am fortunate in 
being associated in preparations for the Masque's New 
York production next May. 

These preparations have met with many complex 
difficulties of launching and organization; the time re- 
^maining is very brief to accomplish the many-sided 
community task for which the Masque is designed; only 
the merest beginnings of so vast a movement can be at- 
tempted; but, with cooperation and support from those 
who believe in that task, the producers look forward 
hopefully to serving, in some pioneering degree, the great 
cause of community expression through the art of the 
theatre. Percy MacKaye. 

New York, February 22, 1916. 




MASQUE STRUCTURE 



The Action 

The action takes place, sjmibolically, on three planes: [i] in the cave 
of Sebetos [before and after its transformation into the theatre of Pros- 
pero]; [2] in the mind of Prospero [behind the Cloudy Curtains of the 
inner stage]; and [3] on the ground-circle of "the Yellow Sands" [the 
place of historic time]. 

The Time 

The Masque Proper is concerned, symbolically, with no literal period 
of time, but with the waxing and waning of the life of dramatic art [and 
its concomitant, civilization] from primitive barbaric times to the verge 
of the living present. 

The Interludes are concerned with ritualistic glimpses of the art of the 
theatre [in its widest, communal scope] during three historical periods: 
[i] Antiquity, [2] the Middle Ages, and [3] Elizabethan England. 

The Epilogue is concerned with the creative forces of dramatic art 
from antiquity to the present, and — by suggestion — with the future of 
those forces. 

The Setting 

The setting of the entire Masque is architectural and scenic, not a 
background of natural landscape as in the case of most outdoor pageants. 
Being constructed technically for performance, on a large scale, by night 
only, its basic appeals are to the eye, through expert illusions of light 
and darkness, architectural and plastic line, the dance, color, and pag- 
eantry of group movements; to the ear, through invisible choirs and 



XXX MASQUE STRUCTURE 

orchestra, stage instrumental music and voices of visible mass-choruses 
[in the Interludes only]. 

As indicated by the accompanying diagram [Time Chart]* of its Inner 
Structure, the Masque Proper is enacted by a comparatively few [about 
thirty] professional actors, who use the spoken word to motivate the large- 
scale pantomime of their action; the Interludes [which use no spoken 
word, but only dance, pageantry, miming, and choruses] are performed 
by community participants [to the number of thousands]; the Epilogue 
utilizes both kinds of performers. 

Corresponding to this Inner Structure, the Outer Structure consists 
of three architectural planes or acting stages [all interdependent]: [i] 
a modified form of Elizabethan stage, [here called "the Middle Stage — 
B "] consisting of a raised platform [to which steps lead up from a ground- 
circle, eight feet below] provided with a smaller, curtained Inner Stage 
[A — under a balcony, on which the upper visions appear, and above which 
the concealed orchestra and choirs are located]. This Inner Stage is two 
feet higher than the Middle Stage, from which ramps lead up to it. 
Shutting it off from the other, its "Cloudy Curtains," when closed, meet 
at the centre; when they are open, the inner Shakespearean scenes 
[visions in the mind of Prospero] are then revealed within. 

Between the raised Middle Stage and the audience lies the Ground- 
Circle — in form like the "orchestra" of a Greek theatre. Here the com- 
munity Interludes take place around a low central Altar, from which 
rises a great hour-glass, flowing with luminous sands. This ground- 
circle is the place of the Yellow Sands, the outer wave-lines of which are 
bordered by the deep blue of the space beyond. The circle itself, repre- 
senting the magic isle of Prospero [the temporal place of his art], is 
mottled with shadowy contours of the continents of the world. 

Beneath the middle stage, and between the broad spaces of the steps 
which lead up to it from the ground-circle, is situated, at centre, the 
mouth of Caliban's cell, which thus opens directly upon the Yellow 
Sands. 

.\11 of these features of the setting, however, are invisible when the 
Masque begins, and are only revealed as the lightings of the action dis- 
close them. 



*See Appendix, page 154. 




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PERSONS AND PRESENCES 

7. OF THE MASQUE PROPER i 

Speaking Persons 
ARIEL 
SYC0RAX2 
CALIBAN 
PROSPERO 
MIRANDA 
Lust 
Death 
War 

Caligula [Impersonated by Lust] 
One in Gray [Impersonated by Death] 
Another in Gray [Impersonated by Caliban] 

Mute Presences 
SETEB0S3 

Choral Presences 
SPIRITS OF ARIEL 
POWERS OF SETEBOS 

Pantomime Groups 
Lust Group 
Death Group 

War Group } Impersonated by the Powers of Setebos 

Roman Group 
The Ones in Gray 
Transformation Choir \ 

Gregorian Choir > Impersonated by the Spirits of Ariel 

Tee Ones in Green / 
The Nine Muses 
Renaissance Fauns 



'The Masque Proper consists of the Prologue and Three Acts, without the Inner 
Scenes and the Epilogue and Interludes. 

-Visualized by a Super-puppet. 

•Visualized by an idol. 



xxxii PERSONS AND PRESENCES 

II. OF THE TEN INNER-STAGE SCENES 

{Enacted by the Spirits of Ariel.] 

See Appendix: Pages 159-161. 

Of these scenes eight are spoken scenes taken from plays of Shakespeare; one 
(the sixth) is a pantomime devised from a descriptive speech in "Henry 
the Eighth," Act I, Scene I; one (the fourth) is a tableau scene symbolic of the 
early Christian Church. Those taken from Shakespeare are printed in black-faced 
type. 

III. OF THE INTERLUDES 

See ApPEJfDDc: Pages 162, 166, 172, 184, 187, 190, 195. 

IV. OF THE EPILOGUE 

Speaking Persons 
The Spirit of Time 
Sh.a.kespe.\re [as Prospero] 

Pantomime Groups* 
Theatres [with Musicians, Dancers, Designers, Producers, Inventors 

etc.: Creators of the art of the theatre] 
Actors 
Dr.\matists 
Spirit Trumpeters [Announcers of the Groups] 



•See Appendix: Pages 207-216. 




U H 



H H rt 



CALIBAN 



CALIBAN 

PROLOGUE 

The action begins in semi-darkness, out of which 
sound invisible choirs. 

The scene is the cave of SETEBOS, whose stark- 
colored idol — half tiger and half toad — colossal and 
primitive — rises at centre above a stone altar. 

On the right, the cave leads inward to the abode of 
SYCORAX; on the left, it leads outward to the sea, a 
blue-green glimpse of which is vaguely visible. 

High in the tiger-jaws of the idol, ARIEL — a slim, 
winged figure, half nude — is held fettered. 

In the dimness, he listens to deep-bellowing choirs 
from below, answered by a chorus of sweet shrill voices 
from within. 



[Sing] 



[Sing] 



THE VOICES FROM BELOW 

Setebos! Setebos! 
THE VOICES FROM WITHIN 

Ariel! 

3 



4 CALIBAN 

ARIEL 

[Calls aloiid] 

0, my brave spirits! 

THE VOICES FROM BELOW 

Setehos ! Setebos ! 

Over us which art, and under: 

Fang of fire 
From mouth of thunder ! 

Hungering goad 

From belly of mire ! 

Tiger and toad — 
Setebos! 
Blood which art on the jungle bloom, 
Sloth and slumber and seed in the womb: 

Which art wondrous 

Over and under us, 
Setebos! Setebos! Thou art Setebos! 

THE VOICES FROM WITHIN 

Sealed in a starless cell. 

We are shut from dawn and sky. 
Ariel ! — Ariel ! 

Why? 

ARIEL 

Setebos knows, but his jaws 
Fetter me fast: he is dumb — 
Answering never. 



CALIBAN 5 

THE VOICES FROM WITHIN 

We, who parch for dew and star — 

Ariel ! — Ariel ! — 
Must we perish where we are ? 
Tell! 

ARIEL 

Sycorax knows, but she sits 
There in the cave with her son — 
Mocking us ever. 

THE VOICES FROM WITHIN 
Ariel! 

ARIEL 

Call me no more, 
Lest they torment us. I hear them 
Coming now. 

THE VOICE OF SYCORAX 
Caliban ! 

ARIEL 

Hush! 

{Gigantic, the twisted form of SYCORAX looms from 
within the rock.] 

SYCORAX 

[Calling toward the sea] 

Come, fish-fowl! Leave thy flapping in the mud 



6 CALIBAN 

And keep thy father's temple. Call his priests. 
Thy father Toad's a god, hath double teeth 
In his two heads. The Tiger loins of him 
Begot thee in my belly for a cub 
To lick his paws and purr, else he may pinch thee 
Behind an eye-tooth, like yon flitter mouse 
That hangs there wriggling. 

THE VOICE OF CALIBAN 

So, so Sycorax! — 
Coming ! 

SYCORAX 

Aye, so so: crawling still! 

[Malformed and hissing, CALIBAN enters on his belly 
and arms.] 

CALIBAN 

Syc-Syco- 
Sycorax! See! 

SYCORAX 

What hast thou got thee? 

CALIBAN 

[Laughs, half rising, and holds up a wriggling crea- 
ture.] 

Got 

A little god — a little Caliban. 



CALIBAN 7 

Ha! — make him out of mud. See: Squeezed it 

round 
And slipped him through my fist-hole. Am a god: 

[Rising] 

See Sycorax — her grandchild ! 

SYCORAX 

'Tis an eel-worm. 
Fling him to the white bat yonder. 

[Her form vanishes in the rock.] 

CALIBAN 
[Approaching the idol] 

Ariel, 
Here's food for thee : a wormling for thy beak. 
So, my trapped bird: — How sayst, ha? 

ARIEL 

[Sings] 

" Where the bee sticks there suck /." 

CALIBAN 

[Laughing] 

Bee, sayst thou? 
Still buzzest of thy wings, and eatest — air! 

ARIEL 

[Sings] 

^'In a cowslips s hell I lie.^^ 



8 CALIBAN 

CALIBAN 

My father's gullet is no cowslip's bell. 
Shalt lie in the belly of Setebos. 

[Tossing away the eel.] 

— What waitest for? 

ARIEL 

I am waiting for one who will come. 

CALIBAN 

Aye? Who will come? 

ARIEL 

One from the heart of the world ; and he shall rise 
On tempest of music and in thunder of song. 

CALIBAN 
[Gaping.] 
Thunder and tempest — so! 

ARIEL 
[With ecstasy.] 

I see him now. 

CALIBAN 
[Crouching back.] 
See him! Where, now? 



CALIBAN 9 

ARIEL 

In my dream : — He bears 
A star-wrought staff and hooded cloak of blue, 
And on his right hand burns the sun, and on 
His left, the moon; and these he makes his masks 
Of joy and sorrow. 

CALIBAN 
Where? Mine eye seeth naught. 

ARIEL 

Before him comes a maid — a child, all wonder — 
And leads him to this blighted isle. 

CALIBAN 

What for, here? 

ARIEL 

To set me free, and all my air-born spirits 
Whom Setebos holds prisoned in this earth. 

CALIBAN 
Free? What's that — free? 

ARIEL 

What thou canst never be 
Who never shalt dance with us by yellow sands. 



lo CALIBAN 

SPIRITS OF ARIEL 

{Sing within \ 

"Come unto these yellow sands, 

And then take hands: 
Courtsied when you have and kissed 

The wild waves whist. 
Foot itfeatly here and there'^ — 

CALIBAN 

Ho, blast their noises! Stop thy spirits' squealing. 
Their piping itcheth me like hornets' stings. 

SPIRITS OF ARIEL 

[Sing on, within] 

"And, sweet sprites, the burthen bear^' — 

CALIBAN 

[Screaming.] 

Setebos! Squash 'em! 

POWERS OF SETEBOS 

[Sing below with strident roarings, drowning the song 
of Ariel's Spirits.] 

Setebos! Setebos! Thou art Setebos! 

CALIBAN 

[Exidting grotesquely.] 

Who'll dance by yellow sands? — Who's free now, 
spirit? 



CALIBAN II 

Ho, Caliban can squash their music. Free? 
Aren't I a god, bitch-born, the son of Setebos 
Can howl all hell up? Worship me, thou wings! 
Praise my toad- father in his temple! 

ARIEL 

The priests 
Of Setebos are Lust and Death and War. 
Not Ariel— nor Ariel's Spirits ever — 
Shall do them honor. One shall come hereafter 
Whom we now worship, waiting. 

CALIBAN 

[Roaring.] 

Sycorax ! 
SYCORAX 
[Reappearing.] 

Swallow thy croakings, bullfrog. Call the priests, 
And fill this spirit's nostrils with the reek 
Of Setebos, his blood-rites. 

THE SPIRITS OF ARIEL 
[Cry out piercingly.] 

Ariel! 

ARIEL 

Peace, my brave hearts! Be dumb — but still be 
dreaming ! 



12 CALIBAN 

CALIBAN 

Powers of Setebos! — Lust, Death, War, — ho, now! 
Hither, and do my father worship ! 

ARIEL 

[Stifling a cry] 

Ah! 

[Enter LUST, DEATH, and WAR, arrayed as priests 
of Setebos.] 

SYCORAX 
[To Caliban.] 

Come, toad-boy: watch with me, within. 

CALIBAN 

[Going within the cave, as Sycorax disappears.] 

Free, saith? 
Will dance by yellow sands? — Now, Spirit, dance! 

[As Caliban goes within, the powers of Setebos come forth. 

At the altar beneath Ariel, the three Priests lead 
them in ceremonial rites of primeval pageantry 
and dance — the sacrificial worship of Setebos. 
Above them Ariel siifers, with closed eyes. In 
their rites, Lust pours his libation, and lights the 
altar fire, which — when War has made there his 
living sacrifice — Death extinguishes in darkness. 

Through the dark, which gradually changes to a 
glowing dusk, Ariel speaks aloud.] 



CALIBAN 13 

ARIEL 

O Spirits, I have dreamed, but Death has closed 
My sight in darkness. Spirits, I have begotten 
Sweet Joy, but Lust hath drowned her in his wine. 
Yea, I have wove Love wings, but War hath robbed 

them 
And riven his lovely body all alive 
To feed the hungering flames of Setebos. 
My Spirits, I your master am unmastered. 
Speak to me! Comfort me! Is there no joy, 
No love, no dream, that shall survive this dark? 
Hath this our isle no king but Caliban? 
Are there no yellow sands where we shall dance 
To greet the master of a timeless dawn? 
Or must there break no morning? — Ah, you are dumb 
Still to my doub tings. Yet the dark grows pale, 
And, paling, pulses now with rosier shadows; 
And now the shadows tremble, and draw back 
Their trailing glories : hark ! All little birds 
Wake in the gloaming: look! What young Aurora 
Walks in the dusk below, and like a child 
Turns her quick face to listen? — Ah! 

[Below, against the light from the sea, has entered the 
dim Figure he descries.] 

THE FIGURE 

Who caUs? 



14 CALIBAN 

ARIEL 

Spirits, 'tis she! O, we have dreamed her true 
At last — Miranda! 

SPIRITS OF ARIEL 
[Call, in echoing song] 

Miranda I 

MIRANDA 

[Searching with her eyes.] 

Earth and air 
Echo my name. Who calls me? 

ARIEL 

Ariel. 

SPIRITS OF ARIEL 
[As before.] 

Ariel! 

MIRANDA 

Light and dark spin webs around me. 
What art thou, voice — and where? 

ARIEL 

Here — and your servant. 

MIRANDA 

[Beholding him.] 

O me! — ^poor Spirit! — ^What mouth so terrible 
Utters a voice so tender? 



CALIBAN IS 

ARIEL 

Setebos, 
God of this isle, holds me in 's fangs. 

MIRANDA 

But why? 
ARIEL 

I will not serve him. 

MIRANDA 
[Naively, drawing nearer to the huge idol.] 

Setebos, be kind. 
Release this Spirit. 

ARIEL 

He hath nor ears, nor eyes, 
Nor 9,ny sense to know thee by, but only 
These tusks and claws and his toad-belly. 



Dost 



MIRANDA 

Thou suffer, so? 

ARIEL 
Not now. 



MIRANDA 

And hath he held thee 
Long captive? 



i6 CALIBAN 

ARIEL 

Since old ocean's slime first spawned 
Under the moon, I have awaited thee 
And him thou bringest here. 

MIRANDA 

You mean my father, 

Prospero. 

ARIEL 

[Exultingly.] 

Hail him, Spirits! 

SPIRITS OF ARIEL 
[Sing.] 

Prospero ! 

MIRANDA 

Yea, many a starry journey we have made 
Searching this isle. At last to-day, at dawn, 
I saw its yellow sands, and heard thy voice 
Calling for pity. Now my father is come 
And shall release thee. 

ARIEL 

Where? Where is he? 

' MIRANDA 

Here: 
His cloak is round us now: he holds us now 



CALIBAN 17 

In his great art, revealing each to each 
Though he be all invisible. 

[Reentering, Caliban comes forward, sniffing and 
peering at Miranda.] 

CALIBAN 

Hath feet 
And hair: hath bright hair shineth like a fish's tail; 
Hath mouth, and maketh small, sweet noises. 



Beast, 



ARIEL 

[Crying out.] 

Go back! 

MIRANDA 

[Staring, amazed.] 

V/hat's here? 



CALIBAN 

Ca — Caliban; cometh here 
To smell what 'tis. 

[He sniffs nearer; then howls strangely ?[ 

Spring in the air: Oho! 

MIRANDA 
Alas, poor creature ! Who hath hurt thee? 



i8 CALIBAN 

CALIBAN 

Hurt? 
Who hurteth God? Am seed of Setebos : 
Am Caliban: the world is all mine isle: 
Kill what I please, and play with what I please; 
So, yonder, play with him: pull out his wings 
And put 'em back to grow. — Where be thy wings, 
Spring-i'-the-air? 

MIRANDA 

O Ariel, is this sight 
A true thing, and speaks truly? 

ARIEL 

What you hear 
And see — 'tis my master. 

MIRANDA 

'Tis so wonderful 
I know not how to be sad. 

CALIBAN 

[In puzzled fascination, staring at Miranda.] 

The moon hath a face 
And smileth on the lily pools, but hath 
No lily body withal: thy body is 
All lilies and the smell of lily buds, 
And thy round face a pool of moonbeams! 



CALIBAN 19 

MIRANDA 

[With smile and laughter.] 

Nay, 
Then look not in, lest thou eclipse the moon. 

CALIBAN 

Syc — Sycorax hath no such laughing: soundeth 

Like little leaves i' the rain ! Hath no such mouth 

Bright-lipp'd with berries ripe to suck i' the sun — 

Sycorax. 

MIRANDA 

Who is Sycorax? 

ARIEL 
Ah, pain ! 

CALIBAN 

Ho, she that hath calved Caliban to the bull 
Setebos, my blood-sire. [Pauses at a glowing thought, 
then cries with sudden exultance:] So shall us twain 
Caliban all this world ! 

[He crouches, then rolls over at her feet.] 

— Laugh, Spring-i'-the-air! 
Lift so thy lily-pad foot and rub his ear 
Where the fur tickleth, and let thy Caliban 
Tongue-lick its palm. 

[He lies, dog-like, on his back, and laughs loud.] 



20 CALIBAN 

MIRANDA 

This wonder grows too wild. 

ARIEL 

Go, go! flee away! 

C\LIBAN 
[Leaping up.] 

Away? — Aye, so! 

[He approaches Miranda, who recoils, half fearftU.] 

Wist where sah water lappeth warm i' the noon 
And shore-fish breed i' the shoals, — Wist where the 

sea-bull 
Flap-flappeth his fin and walloweth there his cow 
And snoreth the rainbow from his nostrils. 

[He begins to dance grotesquely about her.] 

Ho, 
Spring-i'-the-air ! shalt leap, shalt roll in the sun, 
Shalt dance with lily-warm limbs, shalt race m' the 

guUs ! 
Shalt laugh, and call — Come, Come! 

Come, come, Cahban! 

Catcheth who catcheth can ! 

Mateth mew, mateth man: 

Catch, come, Caliban! 

ARIEL 
O Setebos, let me go free ! 



CALIBAN 21 

MIRANDA 

[To Caliban.] 

Peace! Dance no more. 
Go hence, and leave me. 

CALIBAN 

[Staring.] 

Hence? Aye, both — us twain. 
MIRANDA 

[With simple command.] 

Nay, thou alone. 

CALIBAN 

[With narrowing eyes, draws nearer.] 

Saith what? 

MIRANDA 

[Unafraid.] 

Go from me. 
CALIBAN 

[Stops, with a hissing growl.] 

Syc- 
Syc- Sycorax ! Sycorax ! 

SYCORAX 
[Reappearing.] 

Mole in the mire, wilt squeak 

When thou art trod on? — Bite! Bite, Setebos' son! 

Let the brave wonder breed of thee. 



22 CALIBAN 

CALIBAN 

Aye, mother. 
[With rising passion — to Miranda.] 

A child! Shalt bear me such as thou, with head 
Of Caliban : no eel-worm, nay — a wonder. 
With lily feet, that walk. Ho, Setebos! 

SYCORAX 
Setebos ! Mate them at thine altar. 

MIRANDA 

[Fleeing from Caliban, pauses in terror of Sycorax.] 

Save me! 
POWERS OF SETEBOS 

[Sing within.] 

Setebos! Setebos! 

CALIBAN 

[Rushing toward Miranda.] 

Mine! 

MIRANDA 

Save me, father! 

ARIEL 

[Calling shrilly.] 

Prospero! 



CALIBAN 23 

SPIRITS OF ARIEL 

[Sing within.] 

Prospero! Hail! 

[A clap of thunder strikes, rolling, in sudden dark- 
ness. Lightnings burst from the idol of Setebos. 
From the flashing gloom, choruses of contending 
spirits commingle the roar of their deep bass and 
high-pitched choirs.] 

SPIRITS OF ARIEL 

Prospero ! Prospero ! 
Out of our earth-pain 
Raise and array us 
In splendor of order! 
Pour on our chaos — 
Prospero ! Prospero ! — 
Peace to our earth-pain ! 

POWERS OF SETEBOS 

Setebos ! Setebos ! 

Lord of our earth-bane, 
Loose on his wrath way 

The beast of thy jungle ! 
Pour on our pathway — 
Setebos ! Setebos ! 

Blood for thine earth-bane! 

{Amid the tempestuous song, darkness, and thunder, 
appears on the left a glowing, winged throne. On 



24 CALIBAN 

the throne sits PROSPERO — in one hand, a scroll; 
in the other, a miraculous staffs 

PROSPERO 
{Raising his staff. \ 

Darkness, be light! — Tempest, be calm! — Miranda! 
[The scene grows light, and is still.] 

MIRANDA 

[At the steps of the throne.] 

Father! 

PROSPERO 

Come to me, child. 

[As she mounts to him gladly.] 

Sit here beside me. 

[She sits at his feet, nestling in the folds of his great 
garment.] 

My cloak and staff protect thee. 

MIRANDA 

[Raising her eyes in dread.] 

But the wild thing? 

PROSPERO 
Must be transformed. — Caliban! 



CALIBAN 25 

CALIBAN 

[Crouching at the centre, howls terribly] 

Setebos — sire ! 
Sycorax — mother! Hast swallowed them. Lord 

Thunder, 
Strike us no more ! 

PROSPERO 

I strike no more till time 
Hath need of thunder. Rise now and be tamed, 
Howler at Heaven. 

CALIBAN 

[Rising, bewildered] 

Tamed, saith? What shall it be — 
That "tamed?" 

PROSPERO 

That shalt thou learn of Ariel. 
Now — Ariel! 

[He looks toward Ariel, still held in the mouth of Setebos. 
Sycorax lies heaped and still by the altar.] 

ARIEL 

[Joyously.] 

Master! 

PROSPERO 
Sycorax, lo, 'tis dead. 



26 CALIBAN 

CALIBAN 

\With wailing cry] 

Ah — yo! 

PROSPERO 

The will of Setebos is matched with mine 

To rule our world. Time shall award the prize — 

Mine own Miranda — to his power or mine. 

His might is awful, but mine art is deep 

To foil his power and exalt mine own. 

Ariel, thy spirits shall help me. 

ARIEL 

Master, how? 

PROSPERO 

Thou, long time artless, now shalt learn mine art 

To win my goal — Miranda's freedom. Never 

Tin this immortal Caliban shall rise 

To lordly reason, can Miranda hold 

Her maiden gladness undismayed. For that 

I will release thee from those fangs 

Of Setebos. 

ARIEL 

For that, dear master, I have waited 
Long ages, dreaming. 

PROSPERO 

So, wilt give thy promise 
To learn of me, and teach this monster here? 



CALIBAN 27 

ARIEL 
O set me free to be thy servant ever. 
Master, I promise! 

PROSPERO 

Fly! Run free! — Unfang him, 
Setebos! 

[Prospero raises his staff. 

Slowly the tiger-jaws of the Idol open their fangs. 
Ariel, with a joyous cry, slips into the air, and — 
as he floats fluttering to the earth — his unseen 
choir of Spirits sing with shrilly gladness:] 

SPIRITS OF ARIEL 
Prospero ! Prospero ! Hail ! 

ARIEL 
{Dancing on the earth.] 

Free ! Free ! 
MIRANDA 
[Eagerly^ 

O, now his fettered Spirits: Free them too! 

PROSPERO 
Well urged, my own Miranda. — Setebos, 
Disgorge these long-embowelled choirs! — Spirits, 
Come forth! 

[Again Prospero raises his staff. 
Yawning enormous, the toad-mouth of the Idol, filled 
with green and blue light, widens to a lurid aperture 



28 CALIBAN 

out of which come forth — dancing — the star-bright 

Spirits of Ariel. 

As they come, Ariel — springing toward Caliban — cries 

exultingly:] 

ARIEL 

Now, Caliban, we dance by yellow sands ! 

[Singing as they rush forth, the Spirits dart with Ariel 
swiftly about the grovelling Caliban and chase him^ 
dodging and whining, down the steps to the ground- 
circle, mottled with its shadowy continents of the 
world, and rimmed with its long, yellow wave-lines.] 

SPIRITS OF ARIEL 
"Come unto these yellow sands, 

And then take hatids: 
Courtsied when you have and kissed 

The wild waves whist. 
Foot itfcatly here and there 
And, sweet sprites, the burthen bear: 
Hark, hark! 

Bow-wow I 
The watch-dogs bark: 

Bow-wow ! 
Hark, hark ! I hear 
The strain of strutting chanticleer 
Cry : cock-a-diddle-dow! ' ' 
{Encircling Caliban in their dance, and pelting him with 
bright handfuls of the yellow sands, they tease and 



CALIBAN 29 

drive him howling into his cave cell, where his dark, 
monstrous shape silhouettes for a moment on the 
orange-red glow, then vanishes within. 

As he disappears, to their last "Bow-wow!^' 
and " Cock-a-diddle-dow !^\ they hasten back above 
to Ariel, who leads them before Prospero.] 

ARIEL 
The beast is routed, Master. Was 't well done? 

PROSPERO 

The routed beast — returns. I charge thee, Spirit, 
Not to torment, but teach him — for which task 
Thou wilt require mine art. So by its power 
We will transform this cave of Setebos 
To be a temple to Miranda. Now 
Let these thy Spirits lead her to her shrine 
Yonder, where all her maiden Muses wait 
To make her welcome. 

[Prospero points to where, on the right, appears Mi- 
randa's shrine. From its portals come forth the 
Nine Muses, bearing lutes and pipes. Prospero, 
turning to Miranda, rises and gives her into ArieVs 
care] 

Child, go with them now 
And tarry till I summon. 



30 C A LIB AX 

MIRANDA 

Sir, I will. 
I thank you and these Spirits, and may we all 
Be saved from Setebos. 

ARIEL 

Sweet Mistress, follow! 

\To a melodious luting and piping played by the 
Muses, Ariel and his Spirits escort Miranda to the 
centre, where the Muses meet and conduct her into 
the shrine, while Ariel's Spirits — at a gesture from 
him — dart through the centre of the Cloudy Cur- 
tains and disappear.] 

PROSPERO 

[Calling^ 

Now hither, bird, and perch ! 

ARIEL 
^Running to him, on the throne] 

Beside you. Master! 
PROSPERO 
[Pointing to the ground-circle.] 

Seest yonder Yellow Sands? There sleep the shores, 
The cloudy capes and continents of time; 
There wane and wax eternal tides, that mark 
The ebb and flow of empires with their foam. 
There shalt thou see the million- colored skein 



CALIBAN 31 

Whereof I weave mine art. Look well and learn! 
For this my art is of no only land 
Or age, but born of all — itself a world 
Snatched from the womb of History, to survive 
Its mortal mother in unagination. — 
Dost thou attend me? 

ARIEL 

Word and will, dear Master! 

[At the mouth of Caliban's cell are now visible Lust, 
Death, and War, who in pantomime indicate to 
Caliban their conspiracy against Prospero and 
Ariel.] 

PROSPERO 

'Tis well, for thou must prove my pupil. Look! 
Even now the priests of Setebos conspire 
With Caliban against us. They will compass 
My fall, Miranda's ruin, and thy bondage 
Unless mine art' can foil them. Therefore, now 
Thou shalt behold the pageant of mine art 
Pace from antiquity. First, while yon glass 
Lets flow its yellow sands, behold appear 
My rites of ancient Egypt, Greece, and Rome, 
And, while they pass, I will instruct thee how 
To use them. — Pageant, appear! 

[A deep gong sounds.] 

Lo, Egypt comes 1 



FIRST INTERLUDE* 

Now in succession through the great gates of the 
ground-circle, in colorful incursions of costume and 
music, appear three main pageant groups, that perform 
— with distinctive artistry of dance, pantomime, mass 
movement, and choral song — three ritual episodes of the 
dramatic art of antiquity. The nature of each, by a 
few brief sentences, Prospcro expounds to Ariel, attd so 
to the audience. Concluding, each group of the first 
two departs from the circle. 

The first Action — a symbolic ritual of Egypt — enters 
in seven separate processions, which converge at the centre 
in worship of the golden god Osiris. 

The second group — expressing the noble zenith of 
Greek dramatic art — chants, with aspiring, athletic 
dance, the second chorus of the Antigone of Sophocles, 
celebrating the splendor of man. This Action is per- 
formed by the altar. 

With the third enters a contrasted decadence of the 
theatre's art with the Roman Mimes, who enact a farcical 



*The more detailed description of this Interlude is given in the Ap- 
pendix, pages 162 to 183. 

32 



CALIBAN T,7, 

Comedy in Masks, in presence of the emperor Caligula 
and the Roman populace. Concluding, this Roman 
group does not depart, hut retiring into partial shadow 
on the right, awaits there its later summons. 



ACT I 

[As the Roman Interlude closes, the light passes from 
the ground-circle to the middle stage, where Pros- 
per o — descending his throne with Ariel — moves 
toward the centre. While they speak together there, 
Caliban — coming from his cave — crawls part way 
tip the steps and lies flat, occasionally lifting his 
head to listen] 

PROSPERO 

So, Ariel, I have harvested for thee 
These orchards of mine art, and let thee taste 
Their varied fruitages, some that have ripened 
In climes auspicious, some that are part decayed. 
Now from three vineyards — Egypt, Greece, and 

Rome — 
I will distill a varicolored wine 
For Caliban to drink. So, steeped in spirit. 
Haply he also shall see visions. Hast 
Thou learned by heart all that I whispered to thee? 

ARIEL 
All, Master. 

34 



CALIBAN 35 

PROSPERO 
Tell me part. 

ARIEL 

You will create 
Out of this world of art three scenes of vision. 

PROSPERO 
And who shall act them — say ! 

ARIEL 

My Spirits shall; 
And I will be their Prologue. 

PROSPERO 

For what purpose? 

ARIEL 
To tutor this beast. 

PROSPERO 
And why? 

ARIEL 

That he may grow 
To reverence Miranda, and forswear 
Setebos. 



36 CALIBAN 

PROSPERO 

So! and to dispel the Powers 
Of Setebos, I have transformed his cave 
To be her temple and my theatre. — Look! 

[Pros per raises his staff toward the darkness thai 
conceals the background. As he does so, increas- 
ing light reveals the rude, irregular contours oj the 
cave of Setebos transformed to the architectural lines 
of a splendid proscenium, in the oblong of which 
the Cloudy Curtains shut of the inner stage. The 
idol of Setebos has vanished. 

While this transformation is taking place, the Spirit 
Choirs of Ariel appear above the proscenium, sing- 
ing] 

SPIRITS OF ARIEL 

In the same abode a^nd cell 
Where the Toad was wont to dwell, 
And the Tiger stretched his claw, 
We have built a shrine of Law: 
We have chosen the lair of hate 
To love, imagine and create. 

Out of blood and dross, 

Out of Setebos, 

We are risen to show 

The art of Pros per o: 

Here within his head and heart 

Our souls are servants of his art. 



CALIBAN 37 

[Their appearances vanish above.] 

ARIEL 

Most noble Master ! Show me now behind 

Those cloudy curtains : How have you transformed 

The cave within? 

PROSPERO 

Come; I will show thee how. 

[Prosper and Ariel pass through the curtains at the 
centre and disappear within. 

Meanwhile Caliban, peering above the top step, stares 
in dumb awe at the changed scene. There he is 
hailed from below by the priest of Setebos, Lust, 
who comes forth from his cell and calls:] 

LUST 
Caliban! Remember Setebos I 

CALIBAN 

[Starting, backs down the steps in scared pantomime.] 

Aye, Setebos! But I hear their watch-dogs bark: 
Bow-wow ! I feel their tongue-bites yet — their tor- 
ments. 



38 CALIBAN 

LUST 

Caliban ! Restore thy father's temple. 

CALIBAN 

Yea, but my father had no feet to dance. 

Curse on their yellow sands ! They sting my eyes 

Still wi' their Windings. Blast 'em! 

[He springs part way up the steps again.] 

LUST 

Caliban ! 
Restore the priests of Setebos! 

C\LIBAN 

His priests ! 
Nay, what if the cock sang — their chanticleer 
His Diddle-diddlc-dow I Burneth my spine 
Still with that crowing. 

[Reenter Prospero through the curtains.] 

LUST 

Hush! he comes again. 
I await thy call. Cry on Caligida 
And I will come. 

[Lust goes in the cell.] 



CALIBAN 39 

PROSPERO 

[Calling within the curtains.] 

Now, Ariel, where art thou? 
Ariel! 

ARIEL 

[Stepping forth from behind the curtains, dressed in 
the garb of Prologue, bows low\ 

Here, great Master! I am now 
Prologus, at your service. 

PROSPERO 

Nay, not mine 
But his. [Calling?[ 

Come, Caliban: behold thy tutor. 
Behind these curtains he will show thee now 
More than thy nature dreams on. If thou obey him 
And learn mine art, thou shalt go free like him. 
If not, thou shalt be spitted on a tooth 
More sharp than Setebos. What sayest? 

CALIBAN 

[Cringing^ 

Lord, 
Art Cock o' the world, and Caliban thy worm; 
Yea, only beggeth thee crow no more, nor set 
Thy dancing dogs to bark at him. 



40 CALIBAN 

PROSPERO 

Tush, fool: 
Wilt thou obey? 

CALIBAN 

Obeyeth both of you. 
PROSPERO 

That's well. Sit here and watch. Now, Ariel, 
Thy prologue: then reveal what lies behind. 

[Prospero mounts his throne, on the steps of which 
Caliban squats below him, watching and listening 
with growing curiosity. At the centre, before the 
Cloudy Curtains, Ariel speaks.] 

ARIEL 

From Egypt, by our Master's art. 

Behold now, when these curtains part, 

A scene of fleeting pageantry : 

Behold where pale Mark Antony 

Hath fled his sore defeated ships 

In quest of Cleopatra's lips, 

And turned the tides of war amiss 

To pawn a kingdom for a kiss. — 

So, by my Spirits' acting, see 

Of what strange stuff these humans be ! 

[Ariel retires within through the curtains, which then — 
to the melodic dirge of flutes within — draw apart, 



CALIBAN 41 

disclosing the inner stage, which depicts a scene of 
vivid Egyptian coloring] 

FIRST INNER SCENE 

Against a background of deep blue sky, the barge* 
of Cleopatra lies moored at an ancient wharf : 

*"The barge she sat in, like a burnish 'd throne, 
Burn 'd on the water: the poop was beaten gold; 
Purple the sails, and so perfumed that 
The winds were love-sick with them. The oars were silver, 
Which to the tune of flutes kept stroke. . For her own person, 
It beggar 'd all description : she did lie 
In her pavilion — cloth-of-gold of tissue — 
O'er-picturing that Venus where we see 

The fancy out-work nature. On each side her , 

Stood pretty dimpled boys, like smiling Cupids, 
With diverse-color 'd fans, whose wind did seem 
To glow the delicate cheeks which they did cool. . . . 
Her gentlewomen, like the Nereides, 
So many mermaids, tended her i ' the eyes, 
And made their bends adornings. At the helm 
A seeming mermaid steers; the silken tackle 
Swell with the touches of those flower-soft hands, 
That yarely frame the office. From the barge 
A strange invisible perfume hits the sense 
Of the adjacent wharfs." — [Antony and Cleopatra: 11,2. Shakespeare.] 

The charm and splendor of this description applies here only to the 
beauty of the barge and those it bears: otherwise Cleopatra and her at- 
tendants are, in their appearance, distraught and fearful, and the barge 
shows signs of recent perilous escape from the scene of Antony's sea- 
battle with Octavius Caesar. 

Being here conceived as a plastic vision in the mind of Prospero, 
this Inner Scene — an e.xcerpt from Act III, Scene XI, of Shakespeare's 
play — has, by dramatic license appropriate to this masque, been laid in 
a scene suggested by the above description of the barge. 



42 CALIBAN 

From the left, along the wharf, enters Mark 
Antony, attended by Soldiers and Populace in 
Roman and Egyptian garb.] 

ANTONY 

Hark! the land bids me tread no more upon 't; 
It is ashamed to bear me ! Friends, come hither. 
I am so hated in the world, that I 
Have lost my way forever . I have a ship 
Laden with gold ; take that, divide it ; fly. 
And make your peace with Caesar. 

ALL 

Fly! Not we. 
ANTONY 

I have filed myself; and have instructed cowards 

To run and show their shoulders. Friends, be gone ; 

I have myself resolv'd upon a course 

Which has no need of you; be gone. . . 

Nay, do so ; for, indeed, I have lost command. . . 

[His followers depart, and Antony throws himself 
down on a buttress of the wharf. 

Meantime from the barge, Cleopatra — who has 
looked on and listened — is led down to the landing 
by Charmian and her Attendants, behind whom Eros 
[a friend of Antony] follows. 

They approach Antony, who — absorbed in his 
grief — does not see them.] 



CALIBAN 43 

EROS 

Nay, gentle madam, to him, comfort him. . . 

CHARMIAN 
Do! Why, what else? 

CLEOPATRA 

Let me sit down. O Juno ! 

[As Cleopatra sinks down near him, Antony — 
now beholding her — starts up with a cry of surprise 
and passionate pain.] 

ANTONY 

No, no, no ; no, no ! 

EROS 

[Pointing to Cleopatra's piteous aspect.] 

See you here, sir? 

ANTONY 

[Hiding his face.] 

O fie, fie, fie ! 

CHARMLA.N 

[Bending over her.] 

Madam! 

EROS 

[Appealing to Antony.] 
Sir, sir, — 



44 CALIBAN 

ANTONY 

Yes, my lord, yes; he at Philippi kept 
His sword e'en like a dancer , while I struck 
The lean and wrinkled Cassius; and 'twas I 
That the mad Brutus ended . . . yet now — No 
matter. 

[He sinks down again.] 

CLEOPATRA 

[Rising, to her Attendants.] 

Ah, stand by . . . sustain me! O! 

EROS 

Most noble sir, arise ; the queen approaches. 
Her head's declin'd, and death will seize her, but 
Your comfort makes the rescue. 

ANTONY 
[Drawing still away, despairfuUy.] 

I have offended reputation, 
A most urmoble swerving. 

EROS 
Sir, the queen! 

[Cleopatra and Antony face each other— gazing 
into each other's eyes.] 



CALIBAN 45 

ANTONY 
[Suddenly crying out.] 

O, whither hast thou led me, Egypt? See, 
How I convey my shame out of thine eyes 
By looking back what I have left behind 
'Stroy'd in dishonor. 

CLEOPATRA 

O my lord, my lord, 
Forgive my fearful sails ! I little thought 
You would have follow'd. 

ANTONY 

Egypt, thou knew'st too well 
My heart was to thy rudder tied by the strings, 
And thou shouldst tow me after. O'er my spirit 
Thy full supremacy thou knew'st, and that 
Thy beck might from the bidding of the gods 
Command me. 

CLEOPATRA 

O my pardon ! 

ANTONY 

Now I must 
To the yoimg man send humble treaties, dodge 
And palter in the shifts of lowness ; who 
With half the bulk o' the world play'd as I pleased, 



46 CALIBAN 

Making and marring fortunes. You did know 
How much you were my conqueror; and that 
My sword, made weak by my affection, would 
Obey it on all cause. 

CLEOPATRA 

[Touching his arm, clings to him.] 

Pardon, pardon ! 

ANTONY 
[Overcome at her touch.] 

Fall not a tear, I say ; one of them rates 

All that is won and lost. Give me a kiss. 

Even this repays me. . . Wine! 

Bring wine, within there : wine ! For fortune knows 

We scorn her most when most she offers blows. 

[He embraces Cleopatra. 

From the right slaves enter, bearing chahces and 
wine-beakers. With them come flutists and harpers, 
making festal music. 

Snatching from them a golden cup, Antony raises 
it aloft with an impassioned gesture, returning the 
triumphant smile of the Egyptian queen. 

CLOSING, THE CLOUDY CURTAINS SHUT OFF 
THE SCENE. 

{Meantime Caliban, wJio has risen absorbed and drawn 
slowly nearer in child-like fascination, stands for 



CALIBAN 47 

an instant, bewildered. Then, with a cry, he leaps 
forward in the dim-lit space and gropes along the 
curtains with arms wide.] 

CALIBAN 

Ho, light! All's smother: 'tis gone! Yo — yo, all 

gone — 
Cloud-swallowed, all! Ah, woman, snake-bright 

queen. 
Thou wonder-thing, come back ! Ah, where — where — 

where? 

PROSPERO 

So, so! Canst thou, then, taste my vision, slave? 
[He descends the throne toward Caliban \ 

CALIBAN 

[Staring about him] 

O dazzle-blue, gold-shine, hot lotus smell! 
Blood-root in bloom, and scarlet water- weed ! — 
O silver sight and tinkle- tickling sound ! — 
Spurteth my body with joy — burst in my brain 
Enormous moons of wonder! — Float, still float. 
You purpling sails! Blaze, thou flame- woman! 

Speak 
Sparkles of kissing fire! 



48 CALIBAN 

PROSPERO 

[Approaching him.] 

Nay, art thou touched 
Beyond thy tiger cravings? 

CALIBAN 

Ho, Lord Master, 
Lord Chanticleer, unswallow from thy gorge 
The world thou hast devoured ! 

PROSPERO 

[Pointing toward Ariel, who comes forth again as 
Prologus through the curtains.] 

Ask of thy tutor; 
He hath revealed that world to thy brute ken. — 
Ariel, this lump of earth hath dreams within 't, 
That now begin to sprout. Send it more sun 
And watering. 

ARIEL 

Sir, your art is rain and sun: 
I am but air, to carry its wet or warmth 
Whereso you list. 

PROSPERO 

So let it fall on him 
Till he shall wax to a more worthy plant 
For Miranda's temple-garden. — Here is my Staff: 



CALIBAN 49 

This wields my power. Here keep it in thy charge 

Till I return. So, use it as a rod 

To instruct this bungling cub of Setebos. 

ARIEL 

[As Pros per goes^ 

I will, sir. — Go you far? 

PROSPERO 

No farther than 
The frontiers of mine art. Farewell a while ! 

[Pros per passes within through the curtains. Half 
confiding, half suspicious, Caliban comes near to 
Ariel and questions him.] 

CALIBAN 

Art, saith! What's that — his art? 

ARIEL 

'Tis that which burns 
Now in thy blood : the same which conjured hither 
Bright Egypt and the kiss of Antony. 

CALIBAN 

The woman and the kiss! Nay, saidest now 
'Tis rain and sun ! 

ARIEL 
'Tis so. 



50 CALIBAN 

CALIBAN 

Where falleth his rain? 
Where shineth his sun? 

ARIEL 

Yonder on the Yellow Sands. 

CALIBAN 

Nay, show me this art! Is 't hidden in thy hand? 
Here, let me hold the staff. 

[Caliban reaches for the staf; Ariel raises it warningly.] 

ARIEL 

Stay ! Touch it not 
Lest it shall scorch thy fingers and set fire 
To the building world. The staff of Prospero 
Is for his servants, not for slaves, to wield. 

CALIBAN 

[Drawing back from it, in fear.] 

Scorcheth my fingers, ah? — So wield it, thou! 
Show me once more the snake-bright queen. 

ARIEL 

Nay, Egypt 
No more ! But come with me to Prosper's throne 
Where / play master now. Here thou shalt sit 
And watch the battlements of eternal Troy 
Where Troilus woos inconstant Cressida. 



. CALIBAN SI 

CALIBAN 

Showest me once more — woman? 

ARIEL 

Even so; 
For many kinds of woman make mankind. 

[Rising, Ariel points toward the inner stage and speaks 
chantingly] 

Now, from out Time's storied sphere, 
Homer's Troy I summon here, 
On a dawn when Hector seeks 
Battle with the besieging Greeks: 
There, while heroes throng the gates, 
Cressida her lover 'waits, 
Casting from a height apart 
Tangling hooks for Troilus' heart. — 
Behold her now, by Prosper's art! 

[Ariel raises his staj".] 

SECOND INNER SCENE* 

The Cloudy Curtains draw back, revealing the battle- 
ments of Troy. Above, on a rampart, in the first 
rays of morning, CRESSIDA appears, with a maiden 
Attendant. 



* During this scene/,Caliban — watching intently — slides from the steps 
of the throne and crawls slowly forward on his stomach to the centre, 
where he lies prone, with head lifted — his body pointed toward the Inner 
stage — kicking at times his lower legs [from the knees] in the air. 



52 CALIBAN 

Below, murmuring crowds are looking toward the 
outer gates. Among them pass the aged Trojan 
Queen, and the Greek Helen, in her younger beauty. 

CRESSIDA 

[Peering below.] 

Who were those went by? 

ATTENDANT 

Queen Hecuba and Helen. 

CRESSIDA 

And whither go they? 

ATTENDANT 

Up to the eastern tower 
To see the battle — Hector, 
Before the sun uprose, was harnessed light 
And to the field goes he. 

[Enter behind them Pandarus.] 
CRESSIDA 
Hector's a gallant man. — 

[Turning to greet him.] 
Good morrow. Uncle Pandarus. 

PANDARUS 

[Smiling.] 

Good morrow, Cousin Cressid. 

[Trumpets are sounded, off left.] 



CALIBAN S3 

Hark! They are coming from the field. Shall we 
stand up here and see them as they pass toward 
Ilium? 

CRESSIDA 

At your pleasure. 

[They move to a better vantage. At a gesture 
from Cressida the Attendant departs.] 

PANDARUS 

Here, here's an excellent place. I'll tell you them 
all by their names, as they pass by; but mark 
Troilus above the rest. 

CRESSIDA 
[With a reproving laugh.] 

Speak not so loud. 

[Below, from the left, Trojan warriors, in battle 
gear, begin to pass by, through the admiring populace 
who cheer them occasionally. 

Among them 

iENEAS PASSES 

PANDARUS 

That's ^neas : is not that a brave man? He's one 
of the flowers of Troy, I can tell you. But mark 
Troilus; you shall see anon. 

ANTENOR PASSES 



54 CALIBAN 

CRESSIDA 

Who's that? 

PANDARUS 

That's Antenor: he's one o' the soundest judgments 
in Troy. But when comes Troiius? I'll show 
you Troiius anon. If he sees me, you shall see 
him nod at me. 

CRESSIDA 

[Archly.l 

Will he give you the nod? 

PANDARUS 
You shall see. 

CRESSIDA 

If he do, the rich shall have more. 
HECTOR PASSES 

PANDARUS 

That's Hector: that, that, look you, that; there's a 

fellow ! 
Go thy way, Hector ! There's a brave man, niece. 

CRESSIDA 
O, a brave man! 

PANDARUS 

Swords ! anything, he cares not; an the devil comes to 
him, it's all one. Yonder comes Paris — Paris! 

PARIS PASSES 



CALIBAN 55 

Who said he came hurt home to-day? He's not hurt. 
Why, this will do Helen's heart good now, ha ! Would 

I could see Troilus now! You shall see Troilus 

anon. 

HELENUS PASSES 

CRESSIDA 
Who's that? 

PANDARUS 

[Searching with his eyes, grows impatiently expect- 
ant.] 

That's Helenus. — I marvel where Troilus is. — That's 
Helenus — I think he went not forth to-day. — 
That's Helenus. 

CRESSIDA 

Can Helenus fight, uncle? 

PANDARUS 

Helenus? no. Yes, he'll fight indifferent well. — I 
marvel where Troilus is. Hark! do you hear the 
people cry "Troilus?" 

TROILUS PASSES 

[As he approaches, the populace cheer him. 

His eyes, however, search about till they rest on 
the battlement, where Cressida, returning his look, 
starts back, trembling. 

Noting both their actions, Pandarus continues 
fiauntingly to point out the young hero.] 



S6 CALIBAN 

'TisTroilus! There's a man, niece. Hem! Brave 
Troilus ! 

CRESSIDA 

Peace ! For shame, peace ! 

PANDARUS 

Mark him: note him. O brave Troilus! Look well 
upon him, niece ; look you how his sword is blood- 
ied, and his helm more hacked than Hector's. 
O admirable youth! Go thy way, Troilus, go thy 
way! Had I a sister were a grace, or a daughter a 
goddess, he should take his choice. O admirable 
man ! Paris? Paris is dirt to him. 

[While he is speaking, Cressida has taken from her 
hair a flower, knotted its stem to an arrow, and 
dropped the arrow beneath the rampart, where Troilus 
lifts it with a smile and happy gesture, bearing it away 
with him, right. As Pandarus now turns to her, 
Cressida looks away left and points to others below.J 

CRESSIDA 
Here comes more. 

MORE FORCES PASS 

PANDARUS 

Asses, fools, dolts! Chaff and bran! Porridge after 
meat! I could live and die i' the eyes of Troilus. 
Ne'er look, ne'er look! the eagles are gone; crows 



CALIBAN 57 

and daws, crows and daws ! I had rather be such 
a man as Troilus than Agamemnon and all Greece. 

[Enter, above, Troilus' Boy, who speaks to Pandarus.] 

THE BOY 
Sir, my lord Troilus would instantly speak with you. 

PANDARUS 
Where? 

THE BOY 

At your own house ; there he unarms him. 

PANDARUS 

Good boy, tell him I come. [Exit Boy.] Fare ye 
well, good niece. 

[He goes off, above.] 

CRESSIDA 
Adieu, uncle ! 

[Below, the last of the soldiers and populace have 
passed off, right, where Cressida gazes after them, 
speaking aloud to herself:] 

O more in Troilus thousandfold I see 
Than in the glass of Pandar's praise may be ; 
Yet hold I off. Women are angels, wooing. 
Things won are done ; joy's soul lies in the doing. 

[Below, from the right, Troilus hastens back, alone. 
The arrow with the flower he has thrust through the 



58 CALIBAN 

links in his chain armor on his left side. Pointing 
to it, he calls up toward the battlement.] 

TROILUS 
Cressida ! 

CRESSIDA 

[With a glad cry.] 
Troilus ! 

[Unwinding her long wine-red scarf, she ties it to 
the battlement, whence it flutters down to Troilus. 
Seizing it, he mounts by its aid toward the rampart, 
where the face of Cressida peers luringly above him.] 

TROILUS 
[Calling upward as he mounts.] 
Cressida ! 

[Just as he is about to reach Cressida, 
THE CLOUDY CURTAINS CLOSE. 

[At the centre Caliban now leaps up in loud, excited 
laughter. Clapping his hands in the air, ht 
strides toward Ariel on the throne] 

CALIBAN 

Aha! Troy, Troy! Lips of Troyland and Egypt ! 
Lovers in linlvs of gold ! Ho, wine of woman 
Bubbling in vats of war !— drinketh you all 
Caliban, Caliban, son of Setebos. — Ariel, 



CALIBAN 59 

Learnest me Art? Lo, now: / am his Artist! 

Tell him, Lord Prospero, Caliban createth 

Glories more 'stounding still. Art? Ho, 'tis God's 

play! 
But me ? Am God i' the mire : can make me Troy 
And purple Egypt out of the mud i' my palm; 
Giveth me only that — his little play stick 

[Pointing to the staff in Ariel's hand.] 

To stir in the mud withal. 

ARIEL 

Not yet!— This staff 
Is wrought to stir the spirits of the air, 
Not dabble i' the slime. 

CALIBAN 

Why so? From bog-slime bloometh 
The lotus, and the sea-lark feedeth her young 
Along the salt fiats. — 

[With childish wheedling.] 

Prithee — the staff? 

ARIEL 

[Descending the throne.] 

'T'would burn thee. 
Touch not till thou art free. Yet patience, monster, 



6o CALIBAN 

For thou hast learned to answer well, and growest 
Rarely in thought and speech. 

CALIBAN 

[Tickled to laughter.] 

Yea, clever monster 
Soon groweth monstrous clever. More art, fine Ariel! 
Let Caliban speak thy Prologue. 

ARIEL 

Hush!— Miranda! 
[From her shrine Miranda comes forth, with the Muses. 
Seeing the two, she pauses astonished.] 

MIRANDA 

Nay! — Is this Ariel? 

ARIEL 

'Tis I — Prologus. 
Will you hear mc, Mistress? 

MIRANDA 
[As Caliban approaches.] 

Thou! — thou, Caliban! 

ARIEL 
My pupil. 



CALIBAN 6i 

CALIBAN 

\\Vith confiding assurance] 

Liketh well thy father's art, 
Spring-i'-the-air. 

MIRANDA 

God speed thy learning, monster ! 
I am more fain to help thee in that task 
Than all else in the world. 

CALIBAN 

[Astonished and eager] 

Wouldst help me — thou? 

MIRANDA 
How happy, if I could ! 

CALIBAN 

Yea, canst thou! — Hark: 

[Glancing from his garb to Ariel's.] 

Let me wear glory, too! What booteth me 
To be his Artist, if I wear no cloth 
To show my glory? He there talketh no Prologue 
Without his toga. Tog me, too, in brave 
Colors ! 



62 CALIBAN 

MIRANDA 

Well thought on. 

[To one of the Muses.] 

Quick, Euterpe: Fetch 
Bright vesture forth. 

ARIEL 
For Caliban? 

MIRANDA 

For whom 
So fit? The need of beauty lies 
Most near to them who lack it. 

[Euterpe returns, bringing bright garments, which she 
and the other Maidens help now to put upon Cali- 
ban.] 

So, dear Muses: 
Lay on! 

CALIBAN 

[Delightedly tries to survey himself.] 

Ha, Sycorax, an thou wert here now 
To look on this thy son ! 

[He parades, with swelling pleasure, before the Muses.] 

Gaze well, good Spirits ! 
Now, Ariel, th}' pupil soon shall teach thee 



CALIBAN 63 

What thing this Art is: yea, teach Prospero 
A lesson in 's own lore. 

MIRANDA 

[To Ariel, who is about to protest.] 

Pray, let him tarry 
This time with us. He is too full of dreams 
To act us harm. Speak on thy Prologue. 

CALIBAN 

[Still parading.] 

Prologue ! 
Aye, good : my Prologue shall come after. 

ARIEL 

Mistress, 
Keep here, this staff for your protection. 

[Accepting the staff from Ariel, Miranda takes seat on 
the shrine, where the Muses range themselves about 
her.] 

MIRANDA 

So! 
Be near us, Caliban. 

CALIBAN 

[Moving to the shrine steps, speaks to Ariel.] 
What showest now? 



64 CALIBAN^ 

ARIEL 
[At centre, before the curtains.] 

Now, in Time's emblazoned tome 
Egypt, Greece, turn page for Rome. 

CALIBAN 
[Mutters aloud.] 

Rome, ha! I'll show you Rome! 

ARIEL 

Rocked by mighty Caesar's fall 
Glooms the world in battle pall. 
Where by midnight, worn and spent. 
Weary Brutus, in his tent. 
Watches 'mid the Roman host. 
There the pallid Caesar's ghost 
Rises from his candle-flame 
Accusing. — Who shall bear that blame? 
Can Brutus wake a world from shame? 
[Ariel disappears through the curtains. Miranda 
raises the stajf.] 

THIRD INNER SCENE 

The Cloudy Curtains part, disclosing the tent of Brutus, 

by moonlight. 
Brutus — his outer armor laid aside — sits on a couch: 

near him Lucius, a boy, nods drowsily over a stringed 

instrument. After a brief pause, Brutus — gazing 

at him — speaks wistfully: 



CALIBAN 65 

BRUTUS 

Bear with me, good boy : 

Canst thou hold up thy heavy eyes awhile 

And touch thy instrument a strain or two? 

LUCIUS 

Aye, my lord, an't please you. 

BRUTUS 

It does, my boy : 
I should not urge thy duty past thy might ; 
I know young bloods look for a time of rest. 

LUCIUS 

I have slept, my lord, already. 

BRUTUS 

It was well done ; and thou shalt sleep again ; 
I will not hold thee long. If I do live 
I will be good to thee. 

LUCIUS 

[Tuning his instrument, sings dreamily :] 
Fear no more the frown 0' the great; 
Thou art past the tyrant's stroke. 
Care no more to clothe and eat; 
To thee the seed is as the oak. 
The sceptre, learning, physic, must 
All follow this and come to dust. 
[Lucius falls asleep.] 



66 CALIBAN 

BRUTUS 

This is a sleepy tune. O murderous slumber, 
Lay'st thou thy leaden mace upon my boy 
That plays thee music? Gentle knave, good-night ; 
I will not do thee so much wrong to wake thee.- 
Let me see, let me see ; is not the leaf turned down 
Where I left reading? Here it is, I think. 

[The Ghost of Caesar appears.] 

How ill this taper bums ! — Ha ! Who comes here? 

I think it is the weakness of mine eyes 

That shapes this monstrous apparition. 

It comes upon me. Art thou anything? 

Art thou some god, some angel, or some devil. 

That makest my blood cold and my hair to stare? 

Speak to me what thou art. 

[In the darkness, dark ghostly shapes, hardly visible, 
appear to urge forward the dead Caesar, who alone 
is luminous.] 

THE GHOST 

Thy evil spirit, Brutus. 

BRUTUS 
Why comest thou? 

THE GHOST 
To tell thee thou shalt see me at Philippi. 



CALIBAN 67 

BRUTUS 
Well ; then I shall see thee agam? 

THE GHOST 

Aye, at Philippi. 

BRUTUS 
Why, I will see thee at Philippi, then. 

[The Ghost and the dim Shapes disappear. Brutus 

rises.] 

Now I have taken heart, thou vanishest : 
111 spirit, I would hold more talk with thee. — 

[Calling aloud.] 
Boy, Lucius! Romans, Romans! Awake — awake! 
THE CLOUDY CURTAINS CLOSE 

[Instantly, in the semi-darkness without, Caliban — with 
a great cry — springs among the Muses, snatches 
from Miranda the staff, and rushes with it to the 
centre of the middle stage, shouting aloud:] 

CALIBAN 

Awake, Romans, awake ! 

[Low thunders growl, and sharp flashes glimmer about 
him A 



68 CALIBAN 

MIRANDA 

[Cries out, appalled.] 

The staff! His staff! 
Touch not its power, lest thou lay waste the world ! 

CALIBAN 

[Grasping the stajf, staggers and sways wildly with it, 
as though being shocked by an invisible force.] 

Rome! Now do I hold the roof -beam o' the world. 
Now am / lord of lightnings: Lo, mine art 
Shaketh the throne of Prospero. 

[He strides upon the throne, raising the staff.] 

Awake, 
Imperial Rome! Return, ye snake-bright women 
Of Troy and Eg\pt ! Stain these yellow sands 
Wine-red with spillings of your wreathed bowls, 
And let the orgied priests of revel reign. — 
Caligula, be crowned by Setebos! 
Caligula ! Cahgula ! Caligula ! 

[While he cries aloud, the Powers of Setebos come forth 
from the cell beneath, clad as Roman men, women, 
and slaves and, joined by the Roman Interlude 
Pageant on the ground- circle, raise the Emperor on a 
palanquin upon their shoulders, and bear him up 
the steps to the middle stage, shouting ^'Caligida! " 

Here a scene of mingled riot and orgy follows: 



CALIBAN 69 

Women dancers with golden bowls, slaves shackled and 
driven with whips, rabble groups scrambling for 
bread loaves flung them by heralds, armed soldiery, 
and gorgeous patrician lords: these swarm in a sor- 
did saturnalia, from the midst of which the masked 
form of Caligida rises dominant in splendor. At 
his gesture, slaves tear the Muses from their shrine, 
Of id give them over to the revellers. 

High above all, clutching the staff, his huge limbs rioting 
grotesque from his silken garments, Caliban dances 
on the throne of Pros per 0. 

Below, bass voices of invisible choirs chant through the 
din : 
" Setebos ! Setebos ! Thou art Setebos ! " 

Seized from the throne with the Muses, Miranda — at the 
centre — is borne in faint dread to the reaching arms 
of Caligida, who is about to place upon her his 
crown, when a sudden pealing of silvery trumpets 
strikes silence over all. In awe the revellers gaze 
upward, afid turn toward the background, listening. 

Above them there, from the darkness, appears a colossal 
CROSS, burning with white fire. 

Caligida drops his crown. 

Shadow falls on the colorfid pageantry, and all sink 
slowly to their knees, as the Spirits of Ariel appear 
again above — their luminous ivings outspread like 
seraphim. 



70 CALIBAN 

At either end one blows a slim tapering trumpet. 
High and clear, then, their choirs chant in Gregorian 
unison : 

SPIRITS OF ARIEL 

Vexilla Regis prodeunt; 
Fulget Crucis mysterium, 
Quo came carnis Conditor 
Suspensus est patibulo. 

Quo vulneratis insuper 
Mucrone diro lanceae, 
Ut nos lavaret crimine, 
Manavit unda et sanguine. 

O Crux, ave, spes, unica: 

Hoc Passionis tempore, ' 

Auge piis justitiam 

Reisque dona veniam. 

Te summa Deus Trinitas, 
CoUaudet omnis spiritus: 
Quos per Crucis mysterium 
Salvas, rege per saecula. 

During this chant, the dim revellers beneath bow their 
bodies more low. 



CALIBAN 71 

And now, to faint organ music, the Cloudy Curtains, 
parting, reveal the INNER STAGE hung like an 
early Christian shrine in a catacomb — with prim- 
itive tapestries of dusky blue and gold. Against 
these in the glow of candles, an image of haloed 
Saint Agnes holds a white lamb, which silent shep- 
herds are adoring. This group remains motionless 
as a tableau. 

llien silently from either side two priests come forth 
with swinging censers. Passing forward and 
down the steps to the ground-circle, they are fol- 
lowed in the dim light by the Roman revellers, who 
rise and pass 0^ through the Interlude gates. 

Last of all rises Caligula, who pauses hesitant, looking 
hack where Miranda still kneels, now grouped 
about by her Mtises. 

As he stoops to lift his crown from the earth, two Figures 
in the INNER SCENE— a Shepherd Boy, and a 
Shepherd wrapt in a hide mantle — stir from the still 
picture and come forward in a circle of light, while 
THE CLOUDY CURTAINS CLOSE behind 
them, and above the white cross vanishes. 

Speaking from the place of light to the Emperor's form 
in shadow, the Shepherd calls to him:] 

THE SHEPHERD 
Caligula ! 



72 CALIBAN 

THE EMPEROR 

Who caUs? 

THE SHEPHERD 

Reveal thyself — 
What thing thou art. 

[Stepping slowly into the light, the EMPEROR hows him- 
self before the SHEPHERD, holding up his crown 
which the Shepherd takes and says with a gesture:] 

Lay off thy mask. 

[Rising, the Emperor puts of his mask, revealing him- 
self as the Priest of Setebos.] 

Hail, Lust! 
LUST 
[To the Shepherd] 

Hail, Prospero! 

PROSPERO 

[Putting of his sheepskin cloak, which the hoy takes from 
him] 

Return to Setebos. 
[To the Shepherd Boy] 
Ariel, lead him below. 

ARIEL 
So, Master! 
[Ariel leads Lust away to the cell heneath] 



CALIBAN . 73 

MIRANDA 

[Rising, goes to Prosperous arms] 

Father! 

[From the outer dimness, Caliban — who, since the ap- 
pearance of the burning Cross, has lain flat on the 
throne steps — now grovels forward [trailing his 
silken garment by one sleeve] and flings the staff 
of Prospero into the light space.] 

CALIBAN 
No more ! Will never touch it more ! 

PROSPERO 

[Staring at the staff.] 

A thousand years 
To build, and build for beauty, yet in one flare 
Of riot lust, a lubber idiot 
Confounds time and my toil. — Ah, daughter, 

daughter! 
How shall mine art reclaim this lapsing ape 
From his own bondage? 

MIRANDA 

Sir, my heart is shaken; 
Yet the sweet sight of Agnes and her lamb 
Hath shown new comfort. 

[Stooping, she lifts the staff and holds it toward him.] 



74 CALIBAN 

Therefore, even as a Shepherd, 
Take up thy staff in patience, and urge still onward 
This poor sloughed sheep. 



PROSPERO 

Yea, patience! Sun, moon, stars. 
And all that waxes hath its waning-hour; 
But patience is the night behind the stars, 
Steadfast through all eclipse. 

[With his staff, he touches Caliban where he lies cringed.\ 

Stir, thou thick clot 
Of clay and god-spittle! Let thine atoms thaw 
To mud, where Prosper may imprint once more 
His blurred seal. 

CALIBAN 

[Hoarsely, half rising] 

Mud : yea, methought to be 
His Artist, and make dream- things of mine own 
Like Ariel his spirits, yet now — am mud. 

MIRANDA 

[Pitifully] 
Nay, star-dust! 



CALIBAN j5 

ARIEL 

[Returning.] 

Master, from those far frontiers 
You visited, have you not brought us back 
More pageants of your art? 

PROSPERO 

Yes, Ariel: 
Back from the dim bourns of the Middle Age 
Of Germany, France, Spain, and Italy. 
And now, for this slave's tutelage, I'll show you 
Their quaint moralities and mad-cap mirth. 
Come hither, and watch: Lo, olden Germany! 
Pageant of the north, appear. 



SECOND INTERLUDE'' 

Once more, through the community gates of the ground- 
circle, appear, in contrasted ritual, successive Folk- 
Groups, that perform now episodic phases of the dramatic 
art of Europe in the Middle Ages. Concluding, each 
group departs. 

First comes the Germanic, in part grimly austere, in 
part naively grotesque. On a portable, three-tiered stage 
this group enacts both audience and players of a popular 
morality play: a pantomime scene depicting — in heaven, 
earth, and hell — the tragic, romantic HISTORY OF 
DOCTOR FAUSTUS. 

This Action is followed by the contrasted splendor of a 
mediceval French scene. Here, in presence of the Kings 
of France and England, on THE FIELD OF THE 
CLOTH OF GOLD, is performed a colorful tournament 
on horseback. 

Last follows a fusion of the Spanish and Italian 
groups in the Third Action: a light-hearted dramatic 
Scherzo, full of laughter, knavery, and romantic love. 



* For fuller description of this Interlude, See Appendix, pages 
184-194. 

76 



CALIBAN 77 

performed — in the midst of a festa — by the pied actors 
of the COMMEDIA DELL' ARTE. 

During this last Action, Prospero a}id Ariel [above] 
have witMrawn through the Cloudy Curtains, leaving 
Caliban alone, staring spellbound at the many-hued 
festival below him. 



ACT II 

[Now, when the Italian Interlude is concluded, the light — 
passing to the middle stage — illumines at centre 
the lone figure of Caliban, where he squats above his 
cell. Gazing out over the ground-circle, he calls 
aloud his yearning thoughts:] 

C.\LIBAN 

O Sands — YeUow Sands! FaUeth on you his rain, 
Shineth his sun! Yea, there his breeding dews 
Quicken your bhnd rock-seeds, till wondrous live 

things 
Burst 'em with flame-bright petals; and where his 

light falls 
You blossom with stars and flowers: But me — me 

saith, 
Am mud ! CaUeth me a bubble of black ooze 
Can breed but only mine own belly-kind — 
Bog-fish and moles. — Lieth! 

[Rising with a great gesture.] 

He lieth! 'Tislies! 
Sands! — ^You wild, yellow sands! I, too, I, too. 
Am born to dance by your eternal weaves 

78 



C ALT BAN 79 

And build brave temples there. I, too, shall bring you 
Shoutings of life-song, like those Spirits. — Lo, 
I come to you — I come now ! 

[Running doivn the steps, he rushes out upon the ground- 
circle, where he stoops on bent knees and kisses the 
shining earth. 

Behind him, at the entrance of the cell, Death appears, 
holding a great gray cloak. 

He comes forward , speaking in a thin monotone^ 

DEATH 

Caliban ! 

CALIBAN 

[Raising his head] 

What calleth me there? 

DEATH 

Death: priest of Setebos. 
CALIBAN 
His temple is fallen: wiU build no more like his. 

DEATH 
Thou shalt restore his temple, Caliban. 

CALIBAN 

[Rising] 

Nay, will not! 



8o CALIBAN 

DEATH 

None can say me Nay. I am 
The will to not be which denies all wills. 

[Through the Cloudy Curtains — slowly — Prosper o en- 
ters, in troubled meditation.] 

CALIBAN 

And I am Caliban: [Pointing toward Prospero.] wiU 
be his servant. 

DEATH 

Caliban, thou shalt fail. Thyself art failure, 
Setebos' son. 

CALIBAN 

Myself am done with Setebos: 
Wear now Miranda's cloth. 

DEATH 

Thou shalt wear mine. 
Behold! 

CALIBAN 

[Looking at the gray cloak.] 

What's that? 



CALIBAN 8i 

DEATH 

My cloak, where thou shalt hide 
To snare Miranda unto bondage. Hark! 

[Far, cold, and thin a dirgeful choir sounds from the 
cell behind the figure of Death.] 

THE DIRGE 

Gray — gray — gray: Joy be unholy and hidden; 

Wan be the rainbow of wonder, frozen the tide ! 
Blind — blifid — bli'nd: Passion be pale and forbidden; 

Dumb be the lips of the soul to Beauty denied! 

PROSPERO 

[Speaks to Ariel, who comes running from behind the 
Cloudy Curtains.] 

BHthe bird of mine, my heart is boding ill. 
Hast thou heard? 

ARIEL 

Nay, Master, what? 

PROSPERO 

His dirges. 
ARIEL 

Whose? 
PROSPERO 

Setebos'. Ha, 'tis not his lust I dread. 
Nay, nor his tiger tooth, nor belly on fire: 



82 CALIBAN 

'Tis when his fever cools : when the gray ash 
Covers the hfe-flame, and the boiHng senses 
Skim with thin ice, and the rank bloom wears hoar- 
frost : 
Not savage souls, 'tis dead souls that defeat us. 
Not red, but gray — gray. 

[While Pros per ajid Ariel have spoken together above, 
Caliban, below, has been drawn half hypnotized 
by Death toward the cell.] 



[To Caliban.] 



DEATH 

Follow me. 

CALIBAN 

I follow! 

DEATH 

[At the cclVs mouth, lifts the gray cloak to put upon 
Caliban.] 

Wear now my color. 

CALIBAN 

[As Death touches him, springs back.] 

No, no; thy hand- touch freezeth. 

[Fearfully he leaps up the steps, crying aloud:] 

Prosper© ! I will serve thee. 



CALIBAN 83 

DEATH 

[Disappearing within the cell] 

Thou shalt fail. 

CALIBAN 

[Bowing before Prosper o\ 
Master, raise up thy servant. 

PROSPERO 

Raise thyself. 

CALIBAN 

[Slowly rising] 

So — ^while thou lookest on me, I can rise. 
PROSPERO 

Nay, look once more on what I now create 
For thee to rise by. 'Tis mine art, not me. 
Reigns as thy master. Master it, and go free. 

[The Three move toward the throne, where they soon 
group themselves on the steps] 

/ CALIBAN 

What wilt thou show me now? 
PROSPERO 

A mind distraught — 
Grasping at realms invisible — like thine. 
Poor groping dreamer. Ariel, from the scroll 



84 CALIBAN 

Of mine old Gothic meditations, bid 

Thy spirits blazon now a glimpse of Hamlet. 

[He hands to Ariel his scroll.] 

ARIEL 

Your will, great Master, we revere it. — 
Lo where, to meet his father's spirit, 
Pale Hamlet watches now, before 
The parapets of Elsinore ! 

[Ariel raises the scroll; then, unrolling it, bends his looks 
upon it, while the Cloudy Curtains part, revealing 
the 

FIFTH INNER SCENE. 

On a platform at Elsinore, by blazing starlight, three 
Figures are seen pacing the cold. 

HAMLET 
The air bites shrewdly ; it is very cold. 

HORATIO 
It is a nipping and an eager air. 

HAMLET 
What hour now? 

HORATIO 
I think it lacks of twelve. 



C A LIB A N 8s 

MARCELLUS 
No, it is struck. 

HORATIO 

Indeed? 
I heard it not : then it draws near the season 
Wherein the spirit held its wont to walk. 

[A flourish of trumpets, and ordnance shot off 
within.] 

What does this mean, my lord? 

HAMLET 

The King doth wake to-night and takes his rouse, 
Keeps wassail, and the swaggering up-start reels ; 
And, as he drains his draughts of Rhenish down. 
The kettle-drum and trumpet thus bray out 
The triimiph of his pledge. . . . 

HORATIO 

[Pointing.] 

My lord, it comes! 
[Enter Ghost.] 

HAMLET 

Angels and ministers of grace defend us ! — 

Be thou a spirit of health or goblin damn'd, 

Bring with thee airs from heaven or blasts from hell, 

Thou comest in such a questionable shape 

That I will speak to thee: I'll call thee Hamlet, 



86 CALIBAN 

King, father, royal Dane : O answer me ! . . . 
What may this mean, 

That thou, dead corse, again in complete steel 
Revisit'st thus the glimpses of the moon. 
Making night hideous, and we fools of nature 
So horridly to shake our disposition 
With thoughts beyond the reaches of our souls? 
Say, why is this? Wherefore? What should we do? 
[The Ghost beckons Hamlet.] 

HORATIO 

It beckons you to go away with it. 
As if it some impartment did desire 
To you alone. 

MARCELLUS 

Look with what courteous action 
It waves you to a more removed ground : 
But do not go with it. 

HORATIO 
No ; by no means. 

HAMLET 
It will not speak ; then I will follow it. 

HORATIO 
Do not, my lord. 



CALIBAN 87 

HAMLET 

Why, what should be the fear? 
I do not set my life at a pin's fee ; 
And for my soul, what can it do to that, 
Being a thing immortal as itself? — 
It waves me forth again : I'll follow it. 

MARCELLUS 
You shall not go, my lord. 

HAMLET 

Hold off your hands. 

HORATIO 
Be ruled; you shall not go. 

HAMLET 

My fate cries out, 
And makes each petty artery in this body 
As hardy as the Nemean lion's nerve. 
Still am I call'd. Unhand me, gentlemen. 
By heaven, I'll make a ghost of him that lets me ! 
I say, away ! — Go on ; I'll follow thee ! 

[As Hamlet, impetuous, makes after the departing 
ghost, 

THE CLOUDY CURTAINS CLOSE 



88 CALIBAN 

CALIBAN 

[Springmg up.] 

No, no! Follow not! Let him not follow! 'Tis 
A spirit lureth to Setebos and Death. 
He knoweth him not, what 'tis; — but, master, / know. 
Me, me too hath he beckoned with blind eyes 
And offered his gray cloth. 

PROSPERO 

Thee? Death hath beckoned 
And yet thou didst not follow? 

CALIBAN 

Hither I fled 
To serve thee, but he said that I should fail; 
Yet — yet, and thou wilt help, I will not fail! 

PROSPERO 
And what wouldst have of mc? 

CALIBAN 

[Pointing to Ariel.] 

Thy wonder scroll : 
Nay, not thy staff again ! Will never more 
Botch with thy lightnings. Nay, but this littler 

thing 
Lend me, and let me bear it against Death 



CALIBAN 89 

To free my father's spirit from his gray pall, 
Lettest Ariel : let now thy Caliban 
Conspire to serve thee. 

[He readies for the scroll.] 

PROSPERO 

Why, thou wheedlest well, 
And I must hope in thy self-weening. Yet 
Beware lest thou thyseh shalt wear the drab 
Thou takest from him: Gray hath arsenic 
More keen than scarlet or the corroding blood 
That sered the flesh of Hercules. 



CALIBAN 



[Eagerly], 
The scroll? 



Wilt lend me 



PROSPERO 

\With a gesture to Ariel] 

Here! 

[Ariel hands the scroll, which Pros per then gives to 
Caliban] 

Use this token of mine art 
Less blindfold than the last. 

[Caliban bounds away with the scroll] 



90 CALIBAN 

ARIEL 

[EalJ protesting^ 

Will trust liim, Master? 

PROSPERO 

Yea, though he fail me yet again, for only 
Trust can create its object. 

CALIBAN 

[Joyfully kissing the scroll and raising it^ . 

Now, now, Setebos, 
Thy son shall wean thy Powers from Death, thy 

priest! 
{Descending the steps, Caliban hastens to the mouth of 
the cell, where — as he is about to enter — Death re- 
appears and hails him.] 

DEATH 

Welcome, Caliban! 

[Death beckons within. Pausing momentarily, Caliban 
seems about to draw back, but recovering his pur- 
pose cries out hoarsely:] 

CALIBAN 
Go on; I'll follow thee. 
[He follows within and disappears. 



CALIBAN 91 

Caliban and Death have hardly vanished, when Miranda 
comes from her shrine, followed by the Muses, who 
are accompanied by a troop of Fauns. The classic 
hides of these are partly concealed by gay mediceval 
garments [Florentine and French], and some 
bear in their hands great vellum books and parch- 
ments, which they stack in a pile near the shrine?^ 

MIRANDA 
[Calling joyously] 

Muses, sweet friends to mirth ! Come forth again 
And fetch your Httle Fauns, that drowsed so long 
In mildew'd vaults of antique vellum, through all 
The winters of dark ages. Come, sad Clio, 
Unpucker your frown! You, pale Melpomene, 
Blush to a lovelier time. Yond yellow sands, 
That ran blood-red with orgies of old Rome, 
Shine golden now with young renascence. The ages 
Renew their summer. Joy hath its June once more. 
For once more Prosper reigns. 

PROSPERO 

[As Miranda comes to him] 

'Tis thy returning 
Restores my summer time. I see thou hast 
Been rummaging old lockers. 

MIRANDA 

Aye, sir, and found 



92 CALIBAN 

These sharp-eared Fauns, hiding like wintered field- 
mice 
In attic parcliments. So I set 'em free 
To play, while Care the Cat's away. — Come, now, 
Sicilian boys, caper your shag-hair shins. 
And thou, Terpsy chore, lead on their dance 
To please my father. 

[At her command, TerpsycJiore and the Fauns — to 
instruments played by the Muses — perform a joy- 
ous dance before Prospero. As they conclude, he 
greets them with a smile ^ 

PROSPERO 

Thanks, you hearts upleaping! 
After long ominous hours, thanks for your festa! 
And you, dear child incorrigible for joy, 
Come now, I wiU requite you — not in gold, 
But golden fantasy, wrought all one glow 
Of shadowless shining. 

MIRANDA 
Ah, another vision? 

PROSPERO 
Aye, 'tis a vision, that myself beheld 
Shine on the soil of France. I'll show you Peace : 
The kings of earth at peace, after red battle ; 
Two kings of men, each clasping brother's hand 
Warm with the golden passion of strong peace. 



CALIBAN 93 

MIRANDA 
What kings were they, and where? 

PROSPERO 

England and France: 

*They met in the vale of Andren, 'twixt Guynes and 

Aide; 
I was then present, saw them salute on horseback ; 
Beheld them, when they lighted, how they clung 
In their embracement, as they grew together.' — * 
But tell us, Ariel, what I told thee remember, 
How Peace was crowned on the Field of the Cloth of 

Gold. 

MIRANDA 
How brave a name! Would I had been there! 

ARIEL 
[Bowing, as Prologue.] 

'You lost 
The view of earthly glory : men might say 
Till this time pomp was single, but now married 
To one above itself. Each following day 
Became the next day's master, till the last 
Made former wonders its. To-day, the French, 
All clinquant, all in gold, like heathen gods, 



*From Shakespeare's "King Henry the Eighth," Act I, Scene 1. 



94 CALIBAN 

Shone down the English ; and to-morrow, they 
Made Britain India : every man that stood 
Show'd like a mine. Their dwarfish pages were 
As cherubins, all gilt : the madams too, 
Not used to toil, did almost sweat to bear 
The pride upon them, that their very labor 
Was to them as a painting : now this masque 
Was cried incomparable, and the ensuing night 
Made it a fool and beggar. The two Kings, 
Equal in lustre, were now best, now worst, 
As presence did present them.'* — Lo, now, see 
How first they met, and clasped their hands in 
peace ! 

[Lifting Prosperous staff, Ariel makes a gesture toward 
the Cloudy Curtains, which part, discovering the 



SIXTH INNER SCENE 

Here, to an opening fanfare of golden trumpets, takes 
place a PANTOMIME, all of gold, depicting to the 
eye, as in a glowing fantasy, the meeting of the Kings 
and their Retinues : the alighting of the Kings from 
horseback, their embracement and their clasping of 
hands. 

During this enactment of the pantomime, the choirs of 
Ariel's Spirits sing, unseen:] 



*From Shakespeare's " King Henry the Eighth," Act I, Scene 1. 



CALIBAN 95 

SPIRITS OF ARIEL 

Glory atid serenity, 

Spkfidor of desire, 
Blend where golden lilies bloom 

Mid St. George's fire: 

Lilies of France ! — behold 
How they glow on the Field of the Cloth of Gold, 
And the battle-captains curb their bands 

Where the kings of earth clasp hands. 

Power and principality 

Raise to Peace their choir 
Where Lord Christ his lilies cling 

Round the Dragon's ire: 

Lilies of Christ ! — behold 
How they flame from the Field of the Cloth of Goldj 
Where the captains bow to their Lord's commands 

And the kings of men clasp hands. 

[At the climax of the meeting of the Kings, 

THE CLOUDY CURTAINS CLOSE 

PROSPERO 

[Smiling, to Miranda.] 
This glowing taketh thee. 

MIRANDA 

O, my good father! 



96 CALIBAN 

Methinks my soul is a flake o' the sun, for where 
Thmgs golden shine, I spangle, too; yea, burn 
To be Aurora, and trail cloth of gold 
Around the world. 

PROSPERO 

Unless my will miscarry, 
Thou shalt be such a morning messenger 
And wake the world with beauty. Now my plans 
Wait on a vast result, for Cahban 
Himself hath gone to deal with Setebos 
His gray priest. Death. 

MIRANDA 

What, Cahban! glad 
Hope for us aU! Your art begins to triumph, 
And Ariel's Spirits to conquer. 

PROSPERO 

That still waits: 
Meanwhile mine art drinks from this renaissance 
Deep draughts against a dark to-morrow. — Hither, 
You Fauns! Come, bear my gold-emblazoned scrolls 
And silver-clasped books before me ! 

[Lifting the scrolls and volumes from their pile by the 
shrine, the Fauns come forward with them to Pros- 
pero, who turns affectionately to Miranda.] 



CALIBAN 97 

I 

Will leave you now, and pore awhile on these 
For further conjurings. 

MIRANDA 

[Detaining him.] 

Yet conjure once 
Again before you go ! 

PROSPERO 

What wouldst thou, dear? 

MIRANDA 

Hardly I know: but something high, serene, 
And passionately fair : some vision'd glimpse 
Of fadeless youth, and lovers rich through love. 

PROSPERO 

Why, Ariel hath his orders stiU. — [To Ariel.] List, 

pupil : 
To glad thy mistress' heart, when I am gone, 
Pour the warm moon-wine of Italian night 
Into a dream-cup, where entranced lovers 
Seal with charm'd lips their vows. Therein dissolve 
What visions rise, till they shall melt in one 
Gloaming of love and music. — So, Miranda, 
Rich dreams! Faun-boys, bear on my books before 

me! 



g8 CALIBAN 

[Accompanied hy the hright-clothed Fauns, hearing the 
great hooks and scrolls in quaint procession, Pros- 
pero departs through the throne-entrance. 

Meantime, the Muses and Miratida gather at the 
shrine, where Ariel approaches Miranda.] 

ARIEL 

Mistress — 

MIRANDA 

Hark, Muses! Ariel, speak on! 

ARIEL 

Ear and eye, now, list and lo: 

Mirth of mad Mercutio, 

Juliet's sigh for Romeo ; 

Dim Lorenzo's murmur'd "Ah!" 

For moon-dreaming Jessica; 

Dance of flower-soul'd Perdita 

Wafted to her Florizel 

Like a wave o' the sea: List well; 

Lo, their night renews its spell! 

[At Ariel's last word and gesture, the Cloudy Curtains 
part, disclosing the 

SEVENTH INNER SCENE 

In the glow and gloom of Italian night, as high clouds 
intermittently obscure the moon, a palace garden 
lies in deep shadow. Emerging only partly into 



CALIBAN 99 

view, where soft light-floodings fall on moss-stained 
statue, marble bench, and balcony, there is revealed 
at first [on the left] nothing but a glimpse of garden 
wall, before which flash in the dimness two pied 
figures [BenvoUo and Mercutio]. Calling shrilly, 
their young voices rain showers of fluting laughter. 

BENVOLIO 

Romeo ! My cousin Romeo ! . . . 

He ran this way, and leap'd this orchard wall : 

Call, good Mercutio. 

MERCUTIO 

Nay, I'll conjure, too : 
Romeo! humors! madman! passion! lover! — 
I conjure thee by thy true love's bright eyes, 
By her high forehead and her scarlet lip. 
By her fine foot, straight leg, and quivering thigh 
And the demesnes that there adjacent lie. 
That in thy likeness thou appear to us ! — 
He heareth not, he stirreth not, he moveth not. 

BENVOLIO 

Come, he hath hid himself among these trees, 
To be consorted with the humorous night : 
Blind is his love and best befits the dark. 

MERCUTIO 

If love be blind, love cannot hit the mark . . . 
Romeo, good-night : I'll to my truckle-bed ; 



loo CALIBAN 

This field-bed is too cold for me to sleep : 
Come, shall we go? 

[They disappear, swallowed up in black shadow. 
And now the shadow, shifting, leaves bare in mellow 
moonshine a glimpse of the garden and the balcony, 
where JuUet, bending forward, calls mysteriously 
into the dark below:] 

JULIET 

Hist! Romeo! hist! O for a falconer's voice, 
To lure this tassel-gentle back again! 
Bondage is hoarse, and may not speak aloud ; 
Else would I tear the cave where Echo lies. 
And make her airy tongue more hoarse than mine 
With repetition of my Romeo's name. 

ROMEO 
[Emerging, below, from the shadow.] 

It is my soul that calls upon my name : 

How silver-sweet sound lovers' tongues by night, 

Like softest music to attending ears ! 

JULIET 
Romeo ! 

My dear? 



ROMEO 



JULIET 
At what o'clock to-morrow 
Shall I send to thee? 



CALIBAN loi 

ROMEO 
At the hour of nme. 

JULIET 

I will not fail : 'tis twenty years till then. 
I have forgot why I did call thee back. 

ROMEO 
Let me stand here till thou remember it. 

JULIET 

I shall forget, to have thee still stand there, 
Remembering how I love thy company. 

ROMEO 

And I'll still stay, to have thee still forget, 
Forgetting any other home but this. 

JULIET 

'Tis almost morning ; I would have thee gone : 
And yet no further than a wanton's bird, 
"Who lets it hop a little from her hand. . . . 
Good-night, good-night! Parting is such sweet 

sorrow 
That I shall say good-night till it be morrow ! 

[Once more deep shadow engulfs the scene; and 
now, out of the dark, harmonious music sounds in 
strains of passionate wistfulness. So, as the music 



I02 CALIBAN 

sounds, on the right, beams of the moon reveal a 
flowery bank, whereby Lorenzo and Jessica are dis- 
covered.] 

LORENZO 
How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank ! 
Here will we sit and let the sounds of music 
Creep in our ears : Soft stillness and the night 
Become the touches of sweet harmony. 
Sit, Jessica. Look how the floor of heaven 
Is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold : 
There's not the smallest orb which thou behold'st 
But in his motion like an angel sings, 
Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubins, 
Such harmony is in immortal souls ; 
But whilst this muddy vesture of decay 
Doth grossly close it in, we caimot hear it. 

[Swift shadow sweeps over them in darkness. Wan- 
ing from its visionary theme to a hint of the "muddy 
vesture of decay," the music flows onward then into 
a dance melody; moonlight touches the garden 
again [on the left] with its liquid glow, wherein- 
whirled into light from a group of shadowy dancers 
outside — Florizel and Perdita are disclosed.] 

FLORIZEL 
[As Perdita withdraws shyly her hand from his, 
speaks to her ardently.] 

What you do 
Still betters what is done. When you speak, sweet, 



CALIBAN 103 

I'd have you do it ever. . When you do dance, 

I wish you 
A wave o' the sea, that you might ever do 
Nothing but that; move still, still so. 
And own no other function : each your doing 
So singular in each particular. 
Crowns what you are doing in the present deed. 
That all your acts are queens. . . 
PERDITA 

O Doricles, 
Your praises are too large : but that your youth. 
And the true blood which peepeth fairly through 't. 
Do plainly give you an unstained shepherd, 
With wisdom I might fear, my Doricles, 
You woo'd me the false way. 
FLORIZEL 

I think you have 
As little skill to fear as I have purpose 
To put you to 't. But come ; our dance, I pray : 
Your hand, my Perdita! 

PERDITA 
[Giving her hand confidingly.] 

My Florizel ! 

[Together they dance away into the dark and the luring 
music, as 

THE CLOUDY CURTAINS CLOSE 



I04 CALIBAN 

[Still, after the curtains^ closing, the music continues, 
but now more faint, changing the idyllic strains of 
the dance rhythm to a minor sadness, which grad- 
ually takes form as a drear, monotonous proces- 
sional. Through the faint music, Miranda speaks 
to Ariel.] 

MIRANDA 

Too brief ! too brief, sweet bird ! Ariel, be 
Time's nightingale, and charm these lovers back 
To yearn immortal youth. Methinks already 
Their absence leaves us age'd: Dost thou not feel 
A waning of high powers? Doth not a pallor 
Creep on the glowing world? 

ARIEL 

Yea, so I have felt 
After the equinox — November coming on. 

MIRANDA 

{Starting, as she gazes at one of the Muses.] 
Euterpe dear! What lock of gray is this 
In thy bright hair? — Quick, Ariel: fetch my father, 
For sudden my heart aches, and I wish him near. 

ARIEL 

Straight I will bring him, and my Spirits, too. 
Be merry, mistress: they shall soon restore us. 
[Ariel hastens of, left. As he does so, the Muses, with 
downcast looks, file of right into the shrine^ 



CALIBAN 105 

MIRANDA 

Nay, darling Muses! do not leave me, too. 
What, must you all go hence? Still I must tarry 
To greet my father. Friends, good-bye I 

[They depart.] 

Ah me! 
What voices make their dirge within my heart? 

[While she has spoken, the mouth of Caliban'' s cell, 
emitting a ghastly glow, Jills with dim Shapes, 
which pour outward, and swarm slowly upward 
over the steps, covering the stage with a moving, hud- 
dled grayness, out of which two cloaked Figures rise 
distinct in the dusk. As they come forth and hover 
nearer to Miranda, a cold dirge issues with them 
from below.] 

THE DIRGE 
[As before.] 

Gray — gray — gray: Joy be unholy and hidden; 

Wan be the rainbow of wonder, frozen the tide ! 
Blind — blind — blind: PcLssion be pale and forbidden; 

Dumb be the lips of the soul to Beauty denied ! 

[Slowly the gray hosts surround Miranda, who stares 
at them, only half believing their presence, till the 
dusk, growing lighter, reveals their long Puritan 
cloaks and peaked hats, and the two muffled 



io6 CALIBAN 

Ones in Gray towering before her. Then faintly she 
speaks to them:] 

MIRANDA 

What are you? Why are you come? Ah, you — 'tis 

you: 
Priest of Setebos ! — Caliban ! 

[She sways and falls.] 

CALIBAN 

Ha, she swooneth. — 
Death, unfasten thy spell ! 

DEATH 

Nay, thou hast failed. 
[Lifting the scroll of Prospero, which he has taken from 
Caliban, Death makes a gesture to his followers.] 

Bear her to Setebos! 

[Then, laying his hand upon Caliban, he turns with him 
backward, as a group of the gray-cloaked Shapes 
raise the limp form of Miranda to a cloth-draped 
bier, and thus bear her downward toward the cell's 
mouth. In dim processional, as they go, they 
raise again their dirge:] 



CALIBAN 107 

THE DIRGE 

Gray — gray — gray: Love, he sin-horn of Misgiving! 

Life, be a garment of dullness, drab from the loom! 
Bleak — bleak — bleak: Death, Death is lord of the living: 

Not in the clay hut the heart of man lies the tomb. 

[Disappearing in the cell below, their chant dies away. 
Above them, from the left, Ariel returns, alone. 
Searching in the dusk, half fearfully, he calls:] 

ARIEL 

Miranda — mistress: He hath vanished. Nowhere 
Can I find trace of him. Yea, and my Spirits 
They, too — they, too, are gone, lost in the grayness: 
All have deserted us! Miranda — mistress! 
Where art thou? Gone, thyself? — and I alone! 
O gray, that hast engulfed a world of beauty, 
Where shall I find them ever more — my master, 
My star-bright mistress? Hear me. Yellow Sands! 
If you have beheld them, answer now my prayer! 

[Outstretching his arms toward the Sands\ 

Prospero ! Prospero ! — Master ! 

[From far across the Sands hursts a mellow radiance, 
and the rich voice of Prospero calling in answer:] 

PROSPERO 

Ariel! Ariel! 
Ho, bird I 



io8 CALIBAN 

[Springing into light upon the farthest wave-lines of the 
Yellow Sands, Prospero comes returning, sur- 
rounded by the Spirits of Ariel, clad all in green and 
hearing in their midst a garlanded May-pole. 

Marching joyously across the circle toward Ariel, all 
in radiant glow, they come shouting a choral song:\ 

THE SPIRITS OF ARIEL 

"Sumer is icumen in, 
Lhude sing cuccu ! 
Groweth sed, and bloweth mcd. 
And springth the wude nu. — Sing cuccu ! 

'^Awe bleteth after lomb 

Lhoiith after calve cu ! 
Bulluc sterteth, hiicke verteth, 

Murie sing cuccu ! 

"Cuccu, cuccu, well singes thu, cuccu: 

Ne swike thu naver nu; 
Sing cuccu, nu, sing cuccu, 

Sing cuccu, sing cuccu, nu ! " 

[Leaping up the steps, they plant the May-pole at the 
centre, where Ariel greets them.] 

ARIEL 
Dear Master! blithe hearts : Have welcome home ! 



CALIBAN 109 

PROSPERO 

Welcome our May-pole back! — Where is thy mis- 
tress? 

ARIEL 

[Startled.] 

Alas! F(7w know not? 

PROSPERO 

[Reassuringly.] 

Nay, I know. But cheerly, 
My birdlings! Now that ye are flocked once more 
Round this enchanted tree, I'll conjure you 
Out of mine art such joyous rites, that they 
Shall draw your Mistress even from the tomb 
To join our revels. Come now, gather round 
And watch my antic rites of Merry England! 



THIRD INTERLUDE* 

Now. through the Interlude gates, and from all sides, a 
jocund festival pours into the illumined space of the 
ground-circle: the folk festival of Elizabethan England. 

Simidtaneously , in diferent parts, as in a merry 
rural fair, various popidar arts and pastimes begin, 
and continue together: Morris dancers and pipers, 
balladists and play-actors, folk dancers, fiddlers, clowns, 
and Punch-and-Judy performers romp, rant, parade, 
and jingle amongst flower-girls aiid gay-garbed jesters 
spangling by the bright venders^ booths. 

Central, at a point of vantage, above a gaping crowd 
of lumpkins and children, Noah^s wife harangues the 
heavens from the old play. 

So they pursue their merriment, till the low rumble 
aftd lowering of a thunder-cloud disperses them with its 
passing shadow. 

* See Appendix, pages 196-204, for more detailed description. 



110 



ACT III 

[At the conclusion now of the English Interlude, out of 
the shadow a roseate glow stiffuses the cell of Cali- 
ban, from which the green-clad Spirits of Ariel come 
running forth, bringing in their midst Miranda. 
Leading her in daisy chains, they mount with her 
the steps toward Prospero, singing in glad chorus:] 

THE SPIRITS OF ARIEL 

''Spring, the sweet Spring, is the yearns pleasant king; 
Then blooms each thing, then maids dance in a ring, 
Cold doth not sting, the pretty birds do sing, 
Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo I 

" The palm and may make country houses gay. 
Lambs frisk and play, the shepherds pipe all day, 
And we hear aye birds tune this merry lay: 
Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo ! 

" The fields breathe sweet, the daisies kiss our feet, 
Young lovers meet, old wives a-sunning sit, 
In every street these tunes our ears do greet: 
Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo I 
Spring ! the sweet Spring I " 
III 



112 CALIBAN 

PROSPERO 
[Greeting her.] 
Welcome, most dear! 

MIRANDA 

Once more you bring me home, 
And the gray world wears green ! 

THE VOICE OF CALIBAN 
[Calling, beneath] 

Ho, Spring-i'-the-air! 

MIRANDA 

Hark! 

[From his cell, bare-headed, with gray cloak unbound 
and flapping behind, Caliban bursts forth and 
hastens toward them] 

CALIBAN 

Spring-i'-the-air! Ah, leave me not alone! 
Take me forth with thee, too! Not Death can hold 

me 
When thou goest forth from him. 

MIRANDA 

It was thyself 
That led'st me unto him. 



CALIBAN lis 

CALIBAN 

With thee — with thee 
Would I He even with Death, But when thou leav- 

est, 
Thy Hfe-song prickleth his sod, and maketh my sap 
To leap, and lick the sun again. 

[Kneeling before her.] 

0, whither 
Thou goest, let CaHban go, and wear thy cloth 
Whatso its colors be! 

PROSPERO 
[Darkly.] 

Keep from her, slave! 
Touch not her hem. Her Muses garbed thee once 
Gay in her colors. Thou soiled 'st them with shame. 
Next time thou worest drab, and lured 'st thy Mis- 
tress 
Deathward in gray. Now — now thou darest crave 
Once more to wear her cloth? 

CALIBAN 

Yea, do I! See: 
This cloak — so I forswear it ! 

[He puts of the gray cloak, tears it, and tramples upon 
it; then turns to Miranda}, 

Give me now 
Thy green to wear ! 



114 CALIBAN 

PROSPERO 

Insolence infinite! 
Ariel, my stafi"! 

MIRANDA 

Stay!— What to do? 

PROSPERO 

[About to raise the staff.] 

To teach 
This unwhipt hound — to howl. 

CALIBAN 

[Starting back.] 

Great Master! 

2^1IRANDA 

Grace, 
Dear Father! Patience needs no quick compulsion. 
Thine art is wondrous patient, and this poor 
Slow climber needs thine art. 

PROSPERO 

Why, once again 
Thou art my wiser self. 

[To Caliban.] 

Go, lick her hand, 
And feed from it. 



CALIBAN IIS 

CALIBAN 

[Laying his cheek on Miranda's hand weeps, with great 
sobs.] 

Spring — Spring-i'-the-air, thy dew 
Dabbleth my face. O wonder, what art thou 
That fillest so mine eyes with rain-shine? 

MIRANDA 

April, 
Not I, can conjure spring i' the air, and April 
Plies rarest art in England. — Ariel, 
Fetch us, from out my father's dreamery. 
Nature's spring-charm and echo of English song! 

[To the Spirits of Ariel.] 

Our greenwood cloth! Come, busk him, merry men 

all: 
Aye, both of us ! 

CALIBAN 
[Rapturously.] 

This time I will not fail thee. 
MIRANDA 
[To Pros per 0, indicating Caliban.] 

Have faith in this fellow-creature, and let these 

spirits 
Clothe him anew. 



ii6 * CALIBAN 

PROSPERO 

As you like it, dear, be it so! 
[The Spirits clothe Caliban and Miranda in green, while 
from within the Cloudy Curtains an unseen chorus 
sings:] 

THE CHORUS 

"Under the greenwood tree 
Who loves to lie with me, 
And tune his merry note 
Unto the sweet bird's throat, 
Come hither, come hither, come hither; 
Here shall he see 
No enemy 
But winter and rough weather." 

ARIEL 

Spirits within, ho! 

[The Spirits run through the curtains, at centre, and 
disappear within] 

Prosper's hood 
Broods now a dream of Arden wood, 
Where young Orlando, daring fight 
For succor of old Adam's plight, 
Defies the greenwood company — 
But meets there with no enemy. 



CALIBAN 117 

CALIBAN 

[By the throne with Miranda and Prospero, murmurs 
aloud:] 

No enemy! 

[As Ariel raises his staj", the Cloudy Curtains part, 
disclosing 

THE EIGHTH INNER SCENE 

A place of dappled shine and shadow in the forest. No 
boughs or trees are visible, but only a luminous 
glade of color, where falling sunlight filters a sway- 
ing glow and gloom from high, wind-stirred branches 
above. On the edges of the scene, the semi-ob- 
scurity half conceals forms of the forest company 
[Jacques, the Duke, etc.] who, seated about their 
noon-time meal, sing their chorus: 

THE CHORUS 

Who doth ambition shun 
And loves to live i' the sim, 
Seeking the food he eats 
And pleased with what he gets, 
Come hither, come hither, come hither: 
Here shall he see 
No enemy 
But winter and rough weather. 

[Enter Orlando, with his sword drawn.] 



ii8 CALIBAN 

ORLANDO 

[Fiercely.] 

Forbear, and eat no more ! 

JACQUES 

Why, I have eat none yet. 

ORLANDO 

Nor shalt not, till necessity be served. 

THE DUKE 

What would you have? Your gentleness shall force 
More than your force move us to gentleness. 

ORLANDO 
I almost die for food ; and let me have it. 

THE DUKE 
Sit down and feed, and welcome to our table. 

ORLANDO 

Speak you so gently? Pardon me, I pray you : 
I thought that all things had been savage here ; 
And therefore put I on the coimtenance 
Of stem commandment. But whate'er you are 
That in this desert inaccessible 
Under the shade of melancholy boughs 
Lose and neglect the creeping hours of time ; 
If ever you have looked on better days. 



CALIBAN iig 

If ever been where bells have knoll'd to church, 
If ever sat at any good man's feast, 
If ever from your eyelids wiped a tear 
And known what 'tis to pity and be pitied. 
Let gentleness my strong enforcement be : 
In the which hope I blush, and hide my sword. 

THE DUKE 

True is it that we have seen better days. 
And have with holy bell been knoll'd to church. 
And sat at good men's feasts, and wiped our eyes 
Of drops that sacred pity hath engender'd: 
And therefore sit you down in gentleness 
And take upon command what help we have 
That to your wanting may be minister'd. 

ORLANDO 

Then but forbear your food a little while. 
Whiles, like a doe, I go to find my fawn 
And give it food. There is an old poor man, 
Who after me hath many a weary step 
Limp'd in pure love : till he be first sufiic'd 
I will not touch a bit. 

THE DUKE 

Go find him out. 
And we will nothing waste till you return. 



I20 CALIBAN 

ORLANDO 
I thank ye ; and be blest for your good comfort ! 
[Exit Orlando.] 

THE DUKE 

Thou seest we are not all alone unhappy : 
This wide and imiversal theatre 
Presents more woeful pageants than the scene 
Wherein we play in. 

JACQUES 

All the world's a stage, 
And all the men and women merely players ! 

[Re-enter Orlando with Adam, whom he helps to 
support.] 

THE DUKE 

Welcome ! Set down your venerable burden 
And let him feed. 

ORLANDO 
I thank you most for him. 

ADAM 

So had you need : 
I scarce can speak to thank you for myself. 



CALIBAN 121 

THE DUKE 

Welcome : fall to ! Give us some music ; sing ! 

[Once more, as the chorus resumes the song "Under 
the Greenwood Tree," 

THE CLOUDY CURTAINS CLOSE 

[The music dies away within. 

With a strange, dawning reverence, Caliban turns to 
Miranda and speaks:] 

CALIBAN 

^' I scarce can speak to thank you for myself." — 
Like him there you have furnish'd me food of pity 
And a new world with no enemy ! 

MIRANDA 

You have none, 
Save the blind storms of your own nature. 



CALIBAN 



Those 



Tempests are still now. 

PROSPERO 

[Approaching.] 

So mine art hath power 
Once more to calm? Good : now the time is ripe 
Methinks to rest awhile, for I am happily 



122 CALIBAN 

Weary, and will take rest from thought. — Miranda, 
Wilt come within? Unhood me for brief slumber, 
And smooth my couch? 



[Rising.] 



[To Ariel.] 



MIRANDA 

Right gladly. 
PROSPERO 



And thou, too, 
One moment: I've more for this tutelage. 

[Pros per passes off, right, by the throne exit, accom- 
panied by Ariel. Mirattda, about to follow, 
pauses at Caliban's entreating voice.] 

CALIBAN 

Stay! What your pity hath made me cries to you — 
Leave me not! Let me be yours! 

MIRANDA 
[Wonderingly.] 

How mean you — mine? 

CALIBAN 

Your CaHban, your creature, your bond slave 
To fetch and bear for you. 



CALIBAN 123 

MIRANDA 

I want no bonds 
^Twixt me and any friend. Nay, we are friends 
And free to serve each other. 

CALIBAN 

Yet I yearn 
For more : I know not what. 

MIRANDA 

What more could be 
More happy? 

CALIBAN 

Here I crawled upon my belly 
Brute-stuttering for you, where now I stand 
And pray — with Prosper's tongue. His art hath 

bred 
Within my blood a kinship with your kindness 
That cries: ''Miranda, thou and I are one! " — 
I know not how — I know not how. 

MIRANDA 

You love me. 
'Tis simple, then: I love you, Cahban. 

CALIBAN 
{In a splendor of amazement.] 
Lovestme — thou? thou! — Wilt be mine? 



124 CALIBAN 

MIRANDA 

Nay, truly 
You know not how. Love knows not mme and 

thine, 
But only ours; and all the world is ours 
To serve Love in. I am not thine, good friend. 

[She goes within.] 

CALIBAN 

Stay yet ! — She loveth me ! Yet Love, she saith, 
Love knows not mine and thine. 

A VOICE FROM BENEATH 

[Calls deeply.] 

She shall be thine, 
Caliban ! 

CALIBAN 
[Starting.] 

Mine ! Who saith that word? 
THE VOICE 

She shall 
Be thine! 

CALIBAN 

How mine? — Say ! 

THE VOICE 

Thou shalt fight for her. 



CALIBAN 125 

CALIBAN 

[Pointing toward the Cloudy Curtains.] 

Shall fight? Nay, there — the youth put by his 

sword, 
For the other said: "Your gentleness shall force 
More than your force move us to gentleness." 

THE VOICE 

Yet thou shalt fight! 

CALIBAN 

[Springing forward above his cell.] 

What art thou? 

[From the mouth of the cell a flame-colored Figure 
strides forth and replies:] 

THE FIGURE 

War: thy father's 
Priest. — Cahban, remember Setebos! 

CALIBAN 

Ha, Setebos! Com'st thou once more with priest- 
craft 
To lure me back to him? — Begone! 

WAR 

Yet not 
Without me shalt thou win Miranda. 



126 CALIBAN 

CALIBAN 
[Fiercely.] 

Go! 
WAR 

[Returning within the cell, disappears as his voice dies 
away.] 

Remember War ! Miranda shall be thine ! 

CALIBAN 
[Hoarsely.] 
Miranda — mine ! 

ARIEL 
[Comes running from the throne entrance^ 

Ho, pupil, now be merry ! 
Great Prosper sleeps, and from his slumber sends 

thee 
A dream of fairy laughter. 

CALIBAN 

[Darkly, amazed.] 

Laughter! 

ARIEL 

Aye, 
An English make-believe of antic elves 
And merry wives, to douse the lustful fire 



CALIBAN 127 

Of old John Falstaff, lured to Windsor Forest. — 
Our Master deems thou hast learned art enough 
To laugh at apings of it. 

CALIBAN 

[Still amazed, hut curious^ 

Laugh? 

ARIEL 

Aye, list! 

{Caliban stands on one side, ivith arms folded and 
listens^ 

To Windsor's magic oak now turn: 
There — his fatty bulk in guise 
Of the horned hunter Heme — 
Big Sir John in ambush lies 
Where the counterfeited fays 
Troop along the forest ways: 
How his lust will cease to burn 
For the Merry Wives — now gaze 
Yonder by the oak, and learn! 

[Ariel raises his staff. Parting, the Cloudy Curtains 
disclose 

THE NINTH INNER SCENE 

The gigantic trunk of an oak rises in moonlight, sur- 
rounded by the glimmering purple of the obscure 
forest. 



128 CALIBAN 

Trooping from the left, enter the disguised Fairies, follow- 
ing their leader Sir Hugh Evans.] 

EVANS 
Trib, trib, fairies; come; and remember your parts: 
be pold, I pray you ; follow me into the pit ; and when 
I give the watch 'ords, do as I pid you: Come, 
come; trib, trib. 

[They conceal themselves. 

A distant chiming sounds as Falstaff enters, dis- 
guised as Heme, wearing a stag's head with great 
horns.] 

FALSTAFF 

The Windsor bell hath struck twelve; the minute 

draws on. Now, the hot-blooded gods assist me ! 

Remember, Jove, thou wast a bull for thy Europa; 

love set on thy horns. O powerful love ! That, in 

some respects, makes a beast a man, in some other 

a man a beast. 

CALIBAN 

[Listening intently near the edge of the scene.] 

A man a beast! 

FALSTAFF 

Think on 't, Jove : Where gods have hot backs, what 
shall poor men do? For me, I am here a Windsor 
stag ; and the fattest, I think, i' the forest. Send 
me a cool rut-time, Jove ! Who comes here? My 
doe? 

[Enter Mistress Ford and Mistress Page.] 



CALIBAN 129 

MRS. FORD 

Sir John! Art thou there, my deer? My male 
deer? 

FALSTAFF 

My doe with the black scut ! Let the sky rain potatoes, 
let it thunder to the time of green sleeves; I will 
shelter me here. 

MRS. FORD 

Mistress Page is come with me, sweetheart. 

FALSTAFF 

Divide me like a bribe buck, each a haunch : Am I a 
woodman, ha? Speak I like Heme the hunter? 
As I am a true spirit, welcome ! 

[Noise within.] 

MRS. PAGE 

Alas, what noise? 

MRS. FORD 

Heaven forgive our sins ! 

FALSTAFF 

What should this be? 

MRS. PAGE AND MRS. FORD 

Away ! Away ! 
[They run off.] 



I30 CALIBAN 

FALSTAFF 

I think the devil will not have me damned, lest the oil 
that's in me should set hell on fire ; he would never 
else cross me thus. 

[Enter Sir Hugh Evans, disguised as before ; Pistol, 
as Hobgoblin; Mistress Quickly, Anne Page, and 
others as Fairies, with tapers.] 

MRS. QUICKLY 

Fairies, black, gray, green, and white. 

You moonshine revellers, and shades of night, 

You orphan heirs of fixed destiny. 

Attend your office and your quality. 

Crier Hobgoblin, make the fairy oyes. 

PISTOL 
Elves, list your names ; silence, you airy toys ! 

FALSTAFF 

They are fairies ; he that speaks to them shall die : 
I'll wink and couch : no man their works must eye. 
[He lies upon his face.] 

EVANS 

Where's Bede? Go you, and where you find a maid 
That, ere she sleeps, has thrice her prayers said, 
Raise up the organs of her fantasy; 



CALIBAN 131 

Sleep she as sound as careless infancy ! 
But those as sleep and think not on their sins 
Pinch them, arms, legs, backs, shoulders, sides, and 
shins! 

CALIBAN 

[Growing excitedly absorbed.] 
Ha, pinch them, saith ! 

MRS. QUICKLY 

Away; disperse: but till 'tis one o'clock, 
Our dance of custom round about the oak 
Of Heme the hunter, let us not forget. 

EVANS 

Pray you, lock hand in hand; yourselves in order set; 
And twenty glow-worms shall our lanterns be 
To guide our measure round about the tree. 
But, stay; I smell a man of middle-earth. 

FALSTAFF 

Heaven defend me from that Welsh fairy, lest he 
transform me to a piece of cheese ! 

PISTOL 
Vile worm, thou wast o'erlook'd even in thy birth. 



132 CALIBAN 

MRS. QUICKLY 

With trial-fire touch me his finger-end : 
If he be chaste, the flame will back descend 
And turn him to no pain ; but if he start, 
It is the flesh of a corrupted heart. 

PISTOL 

A trial, come. 

EVANS 

Come, will this wood take fire? 
[They bum him with their tapers.] 

FALSTAFF 

Oh! Oh! Oh! 

CALIBAN 

[Crying out.] 

Ah, ah! They plague him, too! 

MRS. QUICKLY 

Corrupt, corrupt, and tainted in desire ! 
About him. Fairies ; sing a scornful rhyme ; 
And, as you trip, still pinch him to your time. 

ALL 

[As they dance about him, pinch, bum him, and 

sing:] 

Fie on sinful fantasy! 
Fie on lust and luxury ! 



CALIBAN 133 

Lust is but a bloody fire 

Kindled with unchaste desire, 

Fed in heart, whose flames aspire 

As thoughts do blow them, higher and higher. 

Pinch him, Fairies, mutually; 

Pinch him for his villany ; 

Pinch him, and bum him, and turn him about, 

Till candles and starlight and moonshine be out ! 

FALSTAFF 

[Rising and pulling off his buck's head, cries out :] 

Oh! Oh !Oh! 

[As he is about to flee, tormented by the dancing 
figures, 

THE CLOUDY CURTAINS CLOSE 
CALIBAN 

[Bursting into bitter laughter.] 

Ah — ha, ha! 

''Corrupt, corrupt, and tainted in desire!" 

Mocketh me, mocketh me, ah! — A man with horns 

And heart of monster ! 

[Striding fiercely toward Ariel.] 

He mocketh me, thy lord! 

ARIEL 

[Laughing silverly.] 

Why, 'tis but fairy sport for laughter. 



134 CALIBAN 

CALIBAN 
\With choking passion.] 

Laughter ! 
Ah-ha ! Me, too — me, too, thy spirits plagued 
And pinched, to piping jigs. 

[Seizing Ariel.] 

I tell thee, smiling 
Spirit, thy laughter scorcheth me with nettles, 

{Pointing toward the curtains \ 

And that hot bulk of lust hath made my loins 
To rage with boiling blood. 

ARIEL 
[Struggling] 

Unclutch thy hand ! 

CALIBAN 

Not till I bleed that oil of laughter from thee 
Which lappeth me in flame. 

THE VOICE OF WAR 

{Calls deeply from helo'w?^ 

Hail, Caliban! 

CALIBAN 

{Pausing, releases Ariel, and listens] 
Callest me, War? 



CALIBAN 135 

THE VOICE 
Miranda shall be thine ! 

CALIBAN 

Mine ! — Yea, now I am mocked to know myself 
What rutting stag I am ! And her, the doe 
I mate, my horns shall battle for, and be 
Mine own — mine, mine ! Miranda ! 

MIRANDA 

{Coming from within, right, raises her hand in gentle 
warning] 

Hush thy tone; 
My father slumbers yet. 
[Showing Prosperous hood, which she carries] 

He hath put by 
This hood, wherein he sends thee here another 
Visioning. 

CALIBAN 

{Stares at her, breathing hard] 
So: what now? 

ARIEL 

{To Miranda] 

He rages, Mistress. 
Beware! He babbleth of War. 



136 CALIBAN 

MIRANDA 

Why, then he conjures 
The dream my father sends: another picture, 
Painted in gules on England's ancient shield: 
King Harr>% by the high walls of Harfleur. 
[To Caliba7t.] 

So you may learn, good friend, how noblest natures 
Are moved to tiger passions — by a painting 
Called Honor, dearer than their brothers' Uves. 

CALIBAN 
Why will he show me this? 

MIRANDA 

Perchance that you. 
Born of a tiger's loins, seeing that picture. 
May recognize an image of yourself 
And so recoil to reason and to love. 

CALIBAN 
So, mocketh me once more? 

MIRANDA 

Nay, never that. 
But let us look thereon, and learn together. 

CALIBAN 

[Starts toward her, but curbs himself, trembling.] 
Together! 



CALIBAN 137 

MIRANDA 
[To Ariel.] 

Hold his magic hood and conjure. 

ARIEL 
[Taking the hood of Prospero.] 

Image of Strife, may never more 

Yom* Hke draw near! 
Pageant of long-forgotten War, 

Appear! 
Harry of England, lo, is here! 

[As Ariel lifts Prosperous hood on the staff, the Cloudy 
Curtains part, and discover 

THE TENTH INNER SCENE 

Before high mediaeval walls, partly shattered, to pealing 
of trumpets, appear in their armor, King Henry the 
Fifth, and his nobles, surrounded by soldiers, with 
cross-bows and scalmg-ladders. 

Standing above on a parapet, the King is exhorting them 
with vehement ardor. 

KING HENRY 

Once more imto the breach, dear friends, once more, 
Or close the wall up with the English dead ! 
In peace there's nothing so becomes a man 
As modest stillness and humility: 



138 CALIBAN 

But when the blast of war blows in our ears, 
Then imitate the action of the tiger ; 
Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood. 
Disguise fair nature with hard-favor"d rage ; 
Then lend the eye a terrible aspect. . . . 
Hold hard the breath and bend up every spirit 
To his full height. On, on, you noble English, 
Whose blood is fet from fathers of War-proof ! . . . 
Be copy now to men of grosser blood. 
And teach them how to war. And you, good yeomen. 
Whose limbs were made in England, show us here 
The mettle of your pasture ; let us swear 
That you are worth your breeding, which I doubt 

not. . . . 
I see you stand like greyhoimds in the slips. 
Straining upon the start. The game's afoot. 
Follow your spirit, and upon this charge 
Cry, "God for Harry, England, and Saint George!" 

THE SOLDIERS 

[With a great shout.] 

Ho, God for Harry, England, and Saint George ! 

[As they leap forward, to the blare of trumpets, and 
begin to scale the ladders, 

THE CLOUDY CURTAINS CLOSE 

[Instantly Caliban, seizing from the staff the hood of 
Prospero, shakes it aloft and shouts:] 



CALIBAN 139 

CALIBAN 

Ho, God for Caliban and Setebos ! 
War, War for Prosper's throne! Miranda's shrine! 
[A booming detonation resounds, and a roar of voices 
from below.] 

THE VOICES 

Caliban, Caliban, hail! 

[From • the throne-entrance Prospero — imhooded — has- 
tens in, surrounded by the Spirits of Ariel, bearing 
long shining lances. Mounting swiftly the throne 
and joined by Ariel and Miranda, Prospero calls 
to Caliban, who — wearing his hood and lifting his 
staff — strides toward him.] 

PROSPERO 

[His unhooded features revealing their likeness to Shake- 
speare^s.] 

Who wakes my sleep 
With these usurping thunders? 

CALIBAN 

War and I! 
Now Setebos returns, and thou art fallen! 

[A second detonation booms. 

Red glare bursts from Caliban's cell, and War rushes 
forth with the Powers of Setebos, clad in his flaring 



I40 CALIBAN 

habiliments, followed by the groups of Lust and 

Death. 
Bearing lighted torches, amid the roaring of Setebos 

choruses, flashing fireworks and bombs, they swarm 

upon the half -obscure stage. 
Led by War, the flame-colored hordes clash with the 

Spirits of Ariel, overcome them, and take captive 

Miranda, Prospero, and Ariel. 
As War holds Miranda in his power, Prospero con- 
fronts Caliban who — wearing his hood and raising 

his staf — exults before him:] 

Hail, Prospero! Who now is master-artist! 
Who wieldeth now the world? 

PROSPERO 

Hail, Caliban! 
Slumb'ring, from me thou robb'st my hood and staff 
Which wield my power; yet not mine art they wield 
Without my will : my will thou canst not rob 
Nor ravish. 

CALIBAN 

\With eyes gleaming^ 

But Miranda! 

PROSPERO 

Nay, nor her: 
For she is charmed against thy body's rape 



CALIBAN 141 

By chastity of soul. Thy will and War 

May break, but cannot build the world: And One, 

Who bore us all within her womb, still Uves 

To stanch our wounds with her immortal healing. 

CALIBAN 
Where? 

PROSPERO 

[Pointing] 

Yonder, on the Yellow Sands! She rises now 
And calls across the tides of fleeting change 
Her deathless artists of the plastic mind — 
My art that builds the beauty of the world. 



EPILOGUE 

Where Prospero points, the light passes from the 
pageant of War to the centre of the Yellow Sajtds. 

There, in mellow splendor, a serene female Figure, 
rising majestic from the altar, calls to the thronging 
shadows. 

THE SPIRIT OF TIME 

Children of men, my passionate children, hark! 
To-day and Yesterday I am To-morrow: 

Out of my primal dark 

You dawn — my joy, my sorrow. 

Lovers of life, you rapturous lovers, lo 

The lives you clutch are by my lightnings riven: 

Yea, on my flux and flow. 

Like sea-birds tempest-driven. 

Yet from my founts of life, fecund, divine, 
Still dauntless lovers dare my dark tribunal, 

Building a common shrine 

To hold their love communal. 
142 



CALIBAN 143 

So out of War up looms unconquered Art : 

Blind forces rage, but masters rise to mould them. 

Soldiers and kings depart; 

Time's artists — still behold them! 

As the Spirit of Time ceases to speak, the light passes 
to the entrances of the Greek ground-circle, where now — 
from either side — enters a Pageant of the great Theatres 
of the world — from the ancient Theatre of Dionysus to 
the Comedie Francaise — in symbolic groups, with their 
distinctive banners and insignia. The names of these 
are blazoned on their group standards, and the groups 
themselves {like those that follow] are announced from 
either end of the high balcony above the inner stage by two 
spirit Trumpeters, the one beneath a glowing disk of the 
sun, the other beneath a sickle moon. 

While these, below, have ranged themselves on the 
ground-circle and steps above — the groups of War, 
Lust, and Death have dwindled away in the background 
darkness — leaving only Prospero, Miratvla, and Ariel, 
grouped in light at the centre. 

Then on either wing of the stage, at right and left, 
appears luminous a colossal mask — the one of Tragedy, 
the other of Comedy. Through the mouths of these, now 
come forth, in national pageant groups,* the creators 
of the art of the theatre from antiquity to the verge of the 
living present: the world-famed actors, dramatists, 

*For details of these Epilogue groups, see Appendix, pages 205-216. 



144 CALIBAN 

producers, musicians, directors, attd inventors of its 
art. 

First come the great Actors, in the guise of their great- 
est roles — from Thespis and Roscius of old to Irving, 
Salvini, Coquelin, Booth, of modern times, the comic 
actors tumbling forth from the Mask of Comedy, the 
tragic from the Tragic Mask. 

They are followed by national groups of the great 
Dramatists from jEschylus to Ibsen, who pass in review 
before Prospero. 

Among these, with the Elizabethan Dramatists, 
grouped with Marlowe, Green, Jonson, Beaumont, and 
Fletcher, and others, appears the modest figure of 
Shakespeare, at first unemphasized. 

For one moment, however, as Shakespeare himself 
approaches Prospero, he pauses, Prospero rises, and the 
two figures — strangely counterparts to their beholders — • 
look in each other^s eyes: a moment only. For Prospero, 
slipping of his cloak, lays it on the shoulders of Shake- 
speare, who sits in Prosperous place, while Prospero 
m^es silently off with the group of Dramatists. 

Finally, when these pageants of Time have passed, 
and the stately Spirit of Time vanished in dark on the 
Yellow Sands, the only light remains on the figure of 
Shakespeare — and the two with him: Ariel tiptoe be- 
hind him, peering over his shoulder; Miranda beside him, 
leaning forward, with lips parted to speak. 



CALIBAN 145 

Then to these, out of the dimness, comes forth Caliban. 
Groping, dazed, he reaches his arms toward the dark 
circle, where the stately Spirit has vanished. In a voice 
hoarse with feeling, he speaks aloiid. 

CALIBAN 

Lady of the Yellow Sands! O Life! O Time! 
Thy tempest blindeth me : Thy beauty bafSeth. — 
A little have I crawled, a little only 
Out of mine ancient cave. All that I build 
I botch; all that I do destroyeth my dream. 
Yet — ^yet I yearn to build, to be thine Artist 
And stabhsh this thine Earth among the stars — 
Beautiful! 

[Turning to the light, where the Three are grouped.] 

— bright Beings, help me still! 
More visions — visions. Master! 

\With gesture of longing, he crouches at Shakespeare^ s 
feet, gazing up in his face, which looks on him 
with tenderness. With Caliban, Miranda too ap- 
peals to the Cloaked Figure.] 

MIRANDA 

[Wistfully.] 

—Master? 
[To her raised eyes, he returns a pensive smile.] 



146 CALIBAN 

SHAKESPEARE 
[As Prospero] " Child, 

Our revels now are ended. These our actors, 
As I foretold you, were aU spirits and 
Are melted into air, into thin air: 
And, like the baseless fabric of this vision, 
The cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces, 
The solemn temples, the great globe itself, 
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve. 
And, like this unsubstantial pageant faded, 
Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff 
As dreams are made on, and our little life 
Is rounded with a sleep." 

[Then, while the light focusses and fades in darkness on 
the pensive form of Shakespeare, the choirs of 
Ariel's Spirits repeat, unseen, in song:\ 

THE SPIRITS OF ARIEL 

^^We are such stujf 
As dreams are made on, and our little life 
Is rounded with a sleep J^ 

rmis 



APPENDIX 



CONTENTS OF APPENDIX 

1. Foreword 

2. Persons and Presences (of the Ten Inner 

Scenes) 

3. Interludes I, II, III 

4. Epilogue 

5. Announcements 



FOREWORD 

The actors of a Community Masque being mem- 
bers of the community, it becomes the function of 
the Masque-director to reverse the traditional order 
of theatrical procedure and — so far as possible — to 
take the public, as participants, into the confidence 
of "behind the scenes" beforehand. 

If this were a play only [in the Broadway sense], 
I should gather together my staff and company for 
a preliminary reading, assign parts, devise plans of 
rehearsal, and get personally in touch with the com- 
paratively few persons involved in its production. 
Being, however, a new kind of drama, involving some 
thousands of persons as actors, and some scores of 
leaders as a projected staff, it becomes practically 
necessary to print and publish, before production, 
not only the foregoing spoken and sung Masque- 
Proper, but the sketched-in outlines of the non- 
speaking Interludes which follow. 

In the nature of the case, these outlines are pre- 
liminary and [though necessarily printed here] are 
still plastic and susceptible to various modifications. 
Thus publication at the moment in New York is 



152 APPENDIX 

essentially for the purpose of rendering each of the 
hundreds of participants more intimately famUiar 
with his or her special relationship [as group par- 
ticipant or group principal] to the work as a whole. 

To this is also added the need for making its text 
and stage-directions available to communities out- 
side of New York, which have already expressed 
their desire to organize for its production after next 
May. 

An interesting American phase of the New York 
production is the problem of carrying its community 
meaning to the still polyglot population, so that 
steps have been taken for the immediate translation 
of the Masque into Italian, German, and Yiddish. 

By referrmg to the chart inner structure, the 
reader will see that it offers a technical solution 
for the participation of about a dozen national and 
civic groups ^\^thin the time Umits of the festival, 
without disintegrating the organic unity of the plot 
and action of the drama, with which the actions of 
the various groups are fused and synthesized. This 
form of technique [the result of some years of thought 
and experiment in this field] contributes a basis 
for the future development of the outdoor commu- 
nity art of the theatre, on a scale adapted to modern 
cities. 

The Masque thus becomes, so to speak, a Masque 



APPENDIX 153 

of Masques. For example, the seven-minute Don 
Giovanni pantomime scene-plot of the Spanish and 
ItaHan Action in Interlude II [of which Mr. Ernest 
Peixotto is the community group-chairman] is being 
enlarged, under Mr. Peixotto's direction, into the 
spring festival of the MacDoweU Club, performed 
locally at its clubhouse, lasting an hour and a half, 
for the Prologue of which the author has written the 
dialogue. 

So each of the other Interlude Actions, necessarily 
brief in time-limit, is itself a potential Masque or 
festival, capable of being developed locally into larger 
proportions. And this is being done m New York 
in the case of several other of the Interlude Actions. 

At the present date, among those who are actively 
interested in the production side of the Interludes, 
are the Misses Lewisohn, and their associates of the 
Neighborhood Playhouse, for interpreting the Egyp- 
tian; Mr. Franklin Sargent of the American Academy 
of Dramatic Arts, in association with members of the 
Greek Colony, for the Greek; Mr. Arturo Giovan- 
nitti [who, as poet, is also translating the Masque 
into Italian] and members of the Italian colony, for 
the Roman; Mr. Otto J. Merkel, and members of 
the German University League, for the German; 
Mr. Charles A. Donner and members of the Alliance 
Francaise, for the French; Mr. Rene Wildenstein, Mr. 



154 APPENDIX 

Peixotto, and members of the Spanish-speaking com- 
munity, for the Spanish-Italian; the New York Branch 
of the EngHsh Folk-Dance Society, under direction 
of Mr. Cecil Sharp, for the Interlude of Elizabethan 
England; the American Academy and National Insti- 
tute of Arts and Letters [Chairman, Mr. William 
Dean Howells], for the Epilogue. 

As indicated in the Inner Structure Chart, an Ac- 
tion of ancient India* was originally planned for the 
beginning of Interlude I. This was chiefly devised, 
in conference with the author and director, by the 
director of the community Interludes, Mr. Garnet 
Holme, who has brought to this New York production 
his very valuable experience in directing outdoor 
festivals in California and England. Owing, how- 
ever, to brevity of time and the pressure of organiza- 
tion details, this Action has been omitted from the 
production in May. 

Of the other members of the producing staff of 
the Interludes, Mrs. Robert Anderson contributes 
to her direction of the community dances her admi- 
rable knowledge of the subject, and Mrs. John W. 

*The plan for this India episode is based on a ritual scene of the ancient 
Hindu drama "Shakuntala," by Kalidasa, translated by Garnet Holme 
and Arthur W. Ryder, and recently produced by the authors in California. 
The translation is published by University of California Press, Berkeley, 
1914. Those communities that may desire to include this Action in their 
local festivals should communicate with Mr. Garnet Holme, care of The 
Shakespeare Celebration, 10 East 43rd Street, New York City. 



COM/nVlNITy MASQXJE 

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IHHEKSTRAJCTVJRE^ 

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THEflTREb ACTORS ORfl/ViTISTS 



2HRS. AOmimutes • 

SHADED: MASQUE PROPER: SPEAKING ACTORS (ABOUT 30) 
MUTE FIGURANTS (ABOUT 300) 
INVISIBLE CHOIRS 
ACTION ON STAGES A & B OF GROUND PLAN 

IVHITE: INTERLUDES & EPILOGUE: NON-SPEAKING PARTICIPANTS (ABOUT 2,OOo) 

VISIBLE CHORUSES 
COMMUNITY DANCES 
PANTOMIME ACTING 
MASS MOVEMENTS 
ACTION ON STAGE C OF GROUND PLAN 



APPENDIX 155 

Alexander to the Interlude costuming [in association 
with Mr. Urban and Mr. Jones] the excellent insight 
and artistry which contributed so much [with the 
work of her husband, the late President of the Acad- 
emy] to the impressiveness of the "Joan of Arc" 
stadium performance at Harvard, and other pro- 
ductions of Maude Adams and Charles Frohman. 

In the following descriptions of the Interlude Ac- 
tions, the numbers of community actors are based on 
an arbitrary computation [at this date] of a total of 
1,500, at least double which number will require to 
be enhsted to make sure of sufficient persons for 
the five New York performances. The numbers here 
printed, however, are purely tentative and are sub- 
ject to modification. Of the terms used for commun- 
ity actors, the term Participants means those who 
take part in the Interludes only; Figurants those 
who also take part in groups of the Masque Proper; 
Specials those who take part only in the special 
group, or groups, designated. 

In the projected tour of the Masque outside of 
New York, a modified performance of the Masque, 
on a smaller scale, when acted without the Interludes, 
will require, in local community actors, only the Fig- 
urants. 

It will be evident, I think, to the reader, that the 
organization of a community for a Masque perform- 



156 APPENDIX 

ance on so large a scale is a special technique, only 
recently in process of development. As a contribu- 
tion to this technique, the appended Community 
Organization Chart has been dra\vn up by my sister, 
Hazel MacKaye, who has brought to it her experi- 
ence, of several years, in organizing and directing 
community pageants and masques, some of them of 
her own authorship. 

Space and time do not permit of further comment 
in this Foreword on many important social relation- 
ships and reactions involved in this new community 
art. The accompanying photograph, however, of a 
Community Masque audience — 150,000 citizens of 
Saint Louis gathered in May, 19 14, to witness the 
Pageant and Masque of Saint Louis, in which ovei 
7,000 of their fellow-citizens took part — may be sug- 
gestive to the imagination of the reader. On the 
background may be seen, at centre, the thousand- 
foot stage, and, at left and right, the tents of the 
community actors, men and women. 

Space and time also do not permit of any adequate 
emphasis upon the enormous importance, and con- 
tribution to this growing art-form, of music in its 
community aspects. In this respect, the splendid 
pioneering work of Mr. Harry H. Bamhart in cre- 
ating community choruses in Rochester and New 
York City is fundamentally significant. In the 



o, , 




APPENDIX 157 

creative field of composition, rich in its manifold 
promise, Mr. Arthur Farwell, director of the New 
York Music School Settlement, and composer of the 
music of this Masque, has devoted probably more 
attention than any other American composer to this 
community type of musical art. 

To the Shakespeare Celebration of New York, since 
its origin last year in activities of the Drama League, 
Miss Mary Porter Beegle, of Barnard College, has 
contributed her imflagging zest and enthusiasm, Mr. 
Howard Kyle his disinterested, manifold services, Miss 
Kate Oglebay her remarkable thoroughness in organ- 
izing the Supplementary Celebrations. 

In his original and deeply based work of experiment, 
through channels of the People's Institute and the 
School for Community Centre Workers, Mr. John 
Collier has shown fundamental leadership in a field 
all-important to the community purposes of this 
Masque: the modern economics and organization of 
cooperative art. 

As this Foreword goes to press, Prof. Richard Or- 
dynski has joined Mr. Urban in the work of the 
Masque's New York production. 

To Mr. Everard Thompson, producers and com- 
mittees alike are indebted for his unfailing, friendly 
resourcefulness. 

As references to the reader curious to study the art 



158 APPENDIX 

of the theatre in the eras touched upon in these 
Interludes, a lengthy BibUography might well be 
submitted. For this Foreword, it may suffice to 
refer to three very useful works, in several volumes, 
viz: "The Drama," Editor Alfred Bates, Historical 
Publishing Company [a dozen volumes]; "The 
Art of the Theatre," Karl Manzius, Scribners, 
[5 volumes]; "The Theatre, Its Development in 
France and England, and a History of Its Greek and 
Latin Origins," Charles Hastings, London, Duck- 
worth, 1902 [and Lippincott]. 

The beneficial possibilities of community festival 
art and organization are, of course, cormnensurate 
with the time and opportunity afforded for their 
development. As mentioned in the Preface, the 
time for the New York production has, by unavoid- 
able circumstance, become far too brief to accompUsh, 
between the present date and the 23rd of May the 
deep social reactions potential in this festival. A 
year, instead, for the work of preparation would be 
none too much. It is hoped, however, that the pro- 
duction of this Masque may at least help to establish 
the festival movement in New York on a sound and 
perennial community basis. 

Percy MacKaye. 

New York, March 26, 1916. 



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PERSONS AND PRESENCES 

OF THE TEN INNER SCENES 
[Enacted by the Spirits of Ariel.] 



Antony 
Cleopatra 
Charmian 
Eros 

Roman Soldiers 
Egyptian Populace 
Flutists 
Harpists 
Wine Bearers 



FIRST INNER SCENE 
SPEAKING PERSONS 



PANTOMIME GROUPS 



Cressida 

Her Attendant 

Pandarus 

Boy 

Troilus 

Hecuba 

Helen 

^neas 

Antenor 

Hector 

Paris 

Helenus 



SECOND INNER SCENE 
SPEAKING PERSONS 



MUTE PERSONS 



IS9 



i6o APPENDIX 

PANTOMIME GROUPS 
Trojan Warriors 
Trojan Populace 

THIRD INNER SCENE 

SPEAKING PERSONS 
Brutus 

Lucius, a boy 
Ghost of Csesar 

MUTE PRESENCES 
Shapes in the Darkness 

FOURTH INNER SCENE 

SPEAKING PERSONS 
Saint Agnes [An Image] 
A Shepherd [Impersonated by Prospero] 
A Shepherd Boy [Impersonated by Ariel] 
Other Shepherds 

FIFTH INNER SCENE 

SPEAKING PERSONS 
Hamlet 
Horatio 
Marcellus 

MUTE PERSONS 
The Ghost of Hamlet's Father 

SIXTH INNER SCENE 
[Derivative from Shakespeare] 

PANTOMIME PERSONS AND GROUPS 
King Henry the Eighth, of England 
King Francis the First, of France 
Their Soldiers and Followers 



APPENDIX 

SEVENTH INNER SCENE 
SPEAKING PERSONS 



i6i 



Benvolio 

Mercutio 

Romeo 

Juliet 

Lorenzo 

Florizel 

Perdita 

MUTE PERSONS 
Jessica 

EIGHTH INNER SCENE 

SPEAKING PERSONS 
Orlando 
Jacques 
Duke 
Adam 

PANTOMIME GROUPS 

Foresters of Arden 

NINTH INNER SCENE 

SPEAKING PERSONS 
Sir Hugh Evans [as Fairy] 
Sir John Falstaff 
Mistress Ford 
Mistress Page 
Mistress Quickly [as Fairy] 
Pistol [as Hobgoblin] 

PANTOMIME GROUPS 
Fairies [Counterfeited by Followers of Sir Hugh] 

TENTH INNER SCENE 

SPEAKING PERSONS AND GROUPS 

King Henry the Fifth 

His Soldiers and Followers 



INTERLUDE I 
FIRST ACTION: EGYPTIAN 

COMMUNITY ACTORS [148] 
Co7nprise 

Participants [75] 
Figurants [73] 

Osiris, the god of summer and fecundity. 
Worshippers of Osiris [Men and Women]. 
7 Groups, each group comprising 
15 Dancers [Parts & Figs.] 
5 Drum-players, Followers [Parts and Figs.] 
I Priest Leader [Participant] 

Total Dancers 105 

" Drum-players 35 

140 
" Leaders 7 

Osiris I 

148 
162 



APPENDIX 163 

THEME 

Egyptian Worshippers of the god Osiris, B. C. 
1000, celebrate his resurrection from death by a 
dramatic ritual, symbolizing how the seven portions 
of his rended body unite again at his rebirth. 

ACTION 

At the deep pealing of gongs, from each of the 
three entrances to the ground-circle, two diverging 
Processions issue forth, a seventh issuing from the 
cell of Caliban. All are dressed in robes and con- 
cealing masks of black. 

Slowly, to the rhythmic beat of Egyptian drums 
[borne by the last five in each procession], by seven 
separate routes, they move out upon the Yellow 
Sands, and so converge toward the altar at the 
centre. 

Within about a rod of the altar they pause, while 
their seven Priest-Leaders move forward — each 
bearing a fire urn — to the altar, on which an immense 
circular disk lies. On the disk, a prone Shape lies 
concealed beneath a black cloth. 

Bowing before the altar, the seven Priests then rise 
and, mounting the steps, extend their arms to touch 
the rim of the disk. Thus — their black masks turned 
skyward — they raise their shrill voices in a mournful 
Egyptian chant. 



i64 APPENDIX 

Moving then backward to the ground, they drop 
incense within their seven urns, from which rise seven 
pillars of smoke, lighted by the glow of fire beneath. 

In this increasing glow, the black Shape on the 
disk stirs, slowly rises beneath its dark cloth, and 
extends upward its hidden arms. During this, the 
drums beat from a low muffled cadence increasingly 
to a loud rolling rhythm, to which now — at a shrill 
choral cry from all the worshippers — the black cloth 
on the central Shape sloughs to its feet, revealing — 
in a burst of radiant splendor — the flame-bright form 
of the god Osiris. 

In tall shining mitre, he raises his ox-herd's whip 
and shepherd's crook. With these, to the joyous 
cries of his Worshippers, he bestows with archaic 
gesture a seven-fold sign of benediction. 

Once more then mounting the altar steps, the 
Priests step forth from their black robes and masks 
in their own garments of yellow gold. Thus, touch- 
ing again the rim of the disk, they begin to revolve it 
— at first slowly.* 

And now at its first motion, Osiris begins to dance. 

In this dance he expresses the former beneficence 
of his life, the sufferings of his death, the rending of 



*The revolving of the disk, of course, is apparent only, not real. Actu- 
ally, the disk remains motionless; it appears to revolve because of the 
motion of the Priests around it. 



APPENDIX 165 

his body into seven parts and finally the joy of his 
resurrection.* 

In rhythm to the primitive music, the Priests re- 
volve the disk to the dancing movement of the god. 

In this revolving movement his Worshippers below 
join in a dance on the ground (expressive of the 
blending of the seven parts of his body), where one 
by one successively the seven Processions encircle 
the altar and the dancing Osiris. As they do so, 
they slough off their dark garments, weaving thus a 
whirling movement in which the proportion of black 
ever diminishes while the golden yellow increases, 
until finally — in a blaze only of gold-yellow radiance 
— the Priests raise aloft on its pedestal the disk, still 
spinning, while the flame-red god, stiU dancing, is 
borne away in procession by his joyous Worshippers, 
shouting aloud their shrill cries of "Osiris!" 

When all have disappeared through the south 
gate of the circle, Prospero on his throne speaks to 
Ariel,! announcing the Second Action of the Inter- 
lude — his art of the drama in Greece. 



*See "Kings and Gods of Egypt," Alexandre Moret; pp. 69-108. 
tSimilarly before each of the Actions of each Interlude, Prospero 
makes a brief explanatory comment to Ariel (and thus to the audience). 



i66 APPENDIX 

INTERLUDE I 

SECOND ACTION: GREEK 

COMMUNITY ACTORS [175] 
Comprise 

Participants [100] 



Individuals [2] 
Sophocles 
The Choregus* 

Friends of Sophocles [20] 
Aristophanes 
Socrates 
Anaxagoras 
Alcibiades 
Euripides 
Fifteen Others 

Chorus [60] 
Choreutai [In four bands, 
fifteen in each band.] 

Musicians [4] 
Four Flute-players 



*The Choregus was the Producer, 



Actors [9] 
Antigone 
Ismene 
Creon 
Haemon 
Eur>'dice 
Teiresias 
A Watchman 
A Messenger 
A Second Messenger 

Trainers and Stage 
Leaders [5] 

Chorodidaskalos [Chorus 
Master] 

Orchestrodidaskalos 
[Dancing Master] 

Chor}^haios [Stage Cho- 
rus Leader] 

Two Parastatai [His As- 
sistant Leaders] 

usually a man of great wealth. 



APPENDIX 167 

FlGUllANTS [75] 

Athenian Audience [75] 
Pericles 
Aspasia 
Seventy-three Others. 

THEME 

Sophocles rehearses the Second Chorus of his 
drama "Antigone" in the Theatre of Dionysus, at 
Athens, B. C. 440. 

ACTION 

At the sounding of Interlude trumpets, the hght 
passes to the great gates of the ground-circle, from 
which simultaneously two main groups enter. 

From the right enter Athenian Citizens, accom- 
panying Pericles and Aspasia. These move forward 
to the north portion of the Yellow Sands [between 
the centre of stage B and the altar] and there form the 
semicircle of an antique audience, which faces the 
altar and the modern audience. Among these, two 
seats are placed for Aspasia and Pericles. 

From the left gate, meanwhile, has entered the 
Choregus [producer of the play], in conversation with 
Sophocles, followed closely by a group of twenty 
friends, among whom are Socrates, Aristophanes, 
Anaxagoras, Alcibiades, and Euripides. These move 



i68 APPENDIX 

toward the centre. There Sophocles summons the 
Chorodidaskalos [Chorus Master], and the Orches- 
trodidaskalos [Dancing Master] to confer with him 
and the Choregus. Returning part way toward 
the left gate, the Chorus Master calls aloud 
''Antigone!" 

Enter, then [left], the Actor of the part of Anti- 
gone, followed by a group of Actors comprising the 
impersonators of Ismene, Creon, Haemon, Eurydice, 
Teiresias, a Watchman, and two iMessengers. With 
these, who carry- their classic masks in their hands, 
the Choregus confers in pantomime, directs them to 
join Sophocles at the altar, and then calls aloud: 
"Choreutai!" 

Thereupon enter the Choreutai [Members of the 
Chorus], SLxty in number, in four bands, fifteen in 
each band. Preceded by the Chor}'phaios [Stage 
Chorus Leader] and four Flute-players [one for each 
band], escorted by two Parastatai [Assistant Leaders], 
the Chorus march in military' order first south [each 
band in three ranks of five men] till they are opposite 
the altar, then east [each band in five files of three 
men], till they halt near the altar. 

Here, after Sophocles has greeted Pericles and 
Aspasia nearby in the impromptu audience [which 
his group of friends have now joined], after he has 
chatted with Socrates, and been chaffed by Aris- 



APPENDIX 169 

tophanes and Alcibiades, he turns with the Choregus 
to conduct the rehearsal. 

After giving directions to Antigone and Ismene, 
who rehearse in pantomime a snatch of their first 
scene together, and after a few instructions to Hae- 
mon, Euripides, and Teiresias, Sophocles now bids 
the Choregus direct the last few passages between 
Creon and the Messenger, just before the Second 
Chorus in the play. 

They do so in pantomime; Creon, with final threat- 
ening gesture to the Messenger, makes his exit, and 
the Messenger — thanking the gods for his escape 
from Creon's anger — also departs. 

And now, by direction of Sophocles, the Chorus 
Master and the Master of Dance make signal to the 
Chorus and the Flute-players; Sophocles steps back 
near Pericles and his other friends : the Flutists begin 
playing and, under leadership of the two masters 
of choral song and of dance, the Chorus — with vigor- 
ous, rhythmic cadence of their athletic bodies — per- 
form an austere dance about the altar, raising to its 
measure their choral song: 



I70 APPENDIX 

CHORUS 

The words of this chorus are translated here by the author from the 
Second Chorus of Sophocles' play "Antigone." 

Many are the wonders of time, hut the mightiest wonder 

is man; 
Man ! Jor he maketh his path with the south wind, over 

the surges 
Down where the storm-white billows 
Lootn to devour him: Yea, 
And Earth, the immortal, the oldest of gods, 
The untoilsome, he tameth with toiling horses 
Dark where his turning ploughshare 
Plougheth from age unto age. 



Birds, the wild-hearted birds, and the breeds of the 

savage wood 
Deep in his woven nets he hath snared, and the broods 

of the bright sea 
Leadeth he likewise captive — 
Master of masters, Man I 
And high on the hills he hath tracked to her wild 
The shaggy-maned horse and yoked her in harness; 
Tireless, too, hath his spirit 
Tamed the wild mountain bull. 



APPENDIX 171 

Words, and the wind of great thought, and the mood that 

mouldeth a state, 
These hath he mastered, and knoweth to parry the white 

frost arrow^s 
Pitiless barb, and the pouring 
Arrows of purple rain. 

All, all hath he mastered, and all that may come 
He meeteth with cunning and power; but only 
Death hath he failed to master: 
Death is the master of man. 



As they conclude, a runner comes hastening from 
the right gate, calling "Pericles! " 

Pericles rises, receives in pantomime the message 
of the runner, and indicates to Sophocles that he must 
return to the city. 

He and Aspasia and their followers depart [right 
gate]. With a gesture, then, to the Choregus, So- 
phocles dismisses the rehearsal; he and his friends 
follow the others; the Chorus forms again in files and 
ranks, moving off with the playing Flute-players to 
the right Interlude gate, where all disappear. 



172 APPENDIX 

INTERLUDE I 
THIRD ACTION: ROMAN 

COMMUNITY ACTORS [150] 
Comprise 

Participants and Specials 

Individuals [2] 
Caligula, Emperor of Rome 
Naevoleia, a female Mime 

Roman Patricians [21] 

Roman Populace [80] 

Musicians [10] 
Two Players of Flutes 

" Citherns 

" Lyres 

" Scabillae [foot cymbals] 

" Shields and Cymbals 

Pantomime Actors [7] 
Pantimimus, announcing the Pantomime, "Hercules 

and the Sphinx." 
Two Boy Pantomimi 
Hercules, the demigod 
Silenus, the satyr 
Servus, a slave 



APPENDIX 173 

Omphalc, a Nymph [afterward disguised as the 
Sphinx] 

Mimes and Dancers [32] 
16 Boy-Mimes, as Fauns 
16 Girl-Mimes, as Nymphs 

THEME 

The Emperor CaHgula witnesses a farcical comedy 
in pantomime, enacted in a street of Rome, A. D. 40. 

ACTION 

As the last of the Greeks disappear right, the Inter- 
lude trumpets sound at the left gate. There immedi- 
ately resounds a great shout and clamor of voices, 
cr}dng aloud: "Caligula! Salve, Imperator!" The 
gate is thrown open, and the Roman populace throng 
in, accompanying — in varied groups of squalor and 
poverty — the gorgeous Patricians that escort the 
Emperor Caligula, borne in a chariot, behind which 
follow a troupe of Roman Pantomime Actors 
and Mimes who carry a light platform with cur- 
tain, which they set up [centre, north], facing the 
altar. 

The curtain is painted to represent the street ex- 
terior of a house, in the Pompeian-Roman style. In 
the centre, set in a lintel frame, is depicted a wide 



174 APPENDIX 

squat door, the stage platform forming its sill. Above 
the door is a window casement. Both door and 
window are devised to open and close practically. 
The top of the curtain is designed as an over-jutting 
tiled roof. 

With the Pantomimists come a group of Musicians, 
consisting of players on flutes, shields and cymbals, 
citherns and lyres, and two who wear fastened to 
their ankles pairs of scabilla, a kind of cymbal for 
the feet. 

The Populace and Patricians meantime cross to 
right of centre [further southwest]. 

In the chariot beside Cahgula rides Naevoleia, a 
female Mime, whom Caligula — with amorous play- 
fulness — kisses and crowns with gold laurel as she 
alights. Alighting with her, he himself helps to at- 
tire her in the garments worn in her part of the 
nymph Omphale in the stage pantomime to follow. 
Doing so, he thrusts aside — with a glance and gesture 
of jealous anger — the Chief Actor, who [in the part 
of Hercules] approaches to assist. 

Caligula then escorts her to the improvised 
stage where she teasingly parts with him to play 
her role in the Comedy. Caligula returns to his 
chariot. 

And now the Comedy is announced by the appear- 
ance [through the curtain door] of Pantomimus, a 



APPENDIX 175 

particolored figure, garbed antiquely as a harlequin, 
wreathed and masked.* 

Behind Pantomimus, enter [on either side of him] 
two little Pantomimi, half his height, exactly resem- 
bling him in every particular. These, as with skip- 
ping step and motion Pantomimus makes his intro- 
duction, imitate his every movement of wand and 
gesture. 

By his action, which is accompanied by flute, 
cymbal, and scabilla players, Pantomimus describes 
very briefly the plot of the comedy which is to follow, 
viz: 

THE SPHINX AND HERCULESf 

THEME 

Hercules, lured by the nymph Omphale to live 
with her a woman's way of life, becomes terribly 
bored, rebels, and vows to a statue of the Sphinx to 
resume his manly exploits. By the help of the 
satyr Silenus, however, who makes Hercules drunk, 
Omphale — in guise of the Sphinx — wins Hercules 
back and marries him. 



*In one hand Pantomimus carries a wand resembling a caduceus, 
but differing from that of Mercury in that the heads of the twining 
snakes are carved as little masks of comedy, and the tip of the wand, to 
which the flying wings are affixed, is the shining disk of a mirror, into 
which at times Pantomimus peers quaintly at his reflection. 

fThe Pantomime is adapted from a Roman Interlude by the author 
in his drama " Sappho and Phaon." 



176 APPENDIX 

ACTION 

As Pantomimus concludes this dumb-show exposi- 
tion, he signs to his two Assistants, who run out and 
bring back two stage properties, which they place 
on either side: the right-hand one represents a squat 
pillar, on the top of which is the sitting figure of a 
bronze Sphinx; the left-hand — a set-piece of foliage 
and shrubber>'. 

All three then make their exit. 

Enter, then, on the ground plane, from behind the 
stage platform, Servus, a house-slave, masked as 
such. He places on the platform a low seat and, 
beside it, a heap of wool and spinning materials. 
Then he prostrates himself toward the left ground 
entrance, as enter there — dancing to cymbal music — 
a group of young girl-mimes without masks], dressed 
as Nymphs and carr>'ing distaffs. 

In the midst of these — ^preceded by most of them — 
enter Hercules, in grotesque mask, which depicts a 
comic-dejected expression. He is wadded after the 
manner of the comic histrionic vase-figures of an- 
tiquity, and walks downcast. Instead of his legen- 
dary lion's skin, there hangs from his shoulder the 
wooly pelt of a sheep; in place of his knotted club, 
his hand holds a huge distaff; and for the rest he is 
dressed like a Greek woman. 

He is accompanied by Omphale, masked as a beau- 



APPENDIX 177 

liiui and amorous nymph. Over her shoulders she 
wears his Hon's skin; in one hand she holds his massive 
club ; with the other she caresses him. 

With coquetting wiles, the Nymphs in their danc- 
ing draw the two toward the centre, where they sit 
beside the wool — Hercules, with heavy sighs, begin- 
ning to spin, while Omphale, posing in the hon's 
skin, approves his labor. Here the Nymphs, re- 
clined about them on the platform and the ground, 
execute a rhythmic dance with their arms and dis- 
taffs, singing to their movement: 

Angustam amice pauperiem pati 
robustus acri militia puer 
condiscat et Parthos feroces 
vexet eques metuendus hasta 
vitamque sub divo et trepides agat 
in rebus, ilium ex moenibus hosticis 
matrona bellanti tyranni 
prospiciens et adulta virgo 
suspiret, eheu, ne rudis agminum 
sponsus lacessat regius asperum 
tactu leonem, quem cruenta 
per medias rapit ira caedes. 

At the culmination of this, Hercules, who has been 
repelling the attentions of Omphale, at first with 



178 APPENDIX 

feeble eiinui, but afterward with increasing determi- 
nation, now rises in grandiose disgust, and — snatching 
from her his hon's skin and club — repudiates her and 
the Nymphs. 

Flinging down the sheep's pelt and setting his foot 
upon it, he breaks his distaff in pieces and, threaten- 
ing Omphale, drives the Nymphs off the scene, left. 
[During this excitement, Servus — who has been 
standing aside — seizes the heap of wool, and exit 
with it in flight.] Turning then to the image of the 
Sphinx, Hercules expresses in dumb-show how, lured 
by the riddle of the Sphinx, he aspires to fight and 
conquer the world for her sake. Laying his club and 
lion's skin devoutly at the foot of the colunm, he 
kneels, embraces it, and raises then his arms in sup- 
plication to the Sphinx. 

Thus kneeling, he is watched furtively at a dis- 
tance by Omphale, who, at his outburst, has run to 
the edge of the foliage, right. Hercules, rising, puts 
on his lion's skin, and brandishing his club heroically 
for the benefit of the immovable Sphinx, goes off, left. 

Immediately Omphale seizes from amid the foliage 
a sylvan pipe, and blows on it a brief, appealing 
ditty. At this, from behind the foUage, run out 
boy-mimes, in the guise of Fauns; she gesticulates to 
them beseechingly. They run back and presently 
return, advancing to pipe-music, accompanying and 



APPENDIX 179 

leading a goat, astride of which sits Silenus, an old 
grotesque Satyr, in mask. 

Omphale greets him joyfully and helps him down 
from the goat. She then describes to him in panto- 
mime the late outburst of Hercules — his breaking 
the spindle, his enamoration for the Sphinx, etc., and 
prays his aid and advice. 

Silenus pauses an instant in philosophical absorp- 
tion, then gives a leap and skip. Omphale, seeing 
that he has hit on some plan, expresses her pleasure 
and inquires what his plan may be. Silenus bids her 
call a slave. Omphale claps her hands toward the 
left entrance. Servus enters. Silenus signs to him. 
Servus goes back and returns immediately, rolling 
in a wine-cask, from which he fills an antique beaker. 
From this Silenus sips and approves. He then points 
to the Sphinx and asks if be that of which Hercules 
is enamored. Omphale assents. Silenus then di- 
rects Servus to hft the Sphinx down from the pillar. 
Servus does so, revealing its hollow interior as he 
carries it. Silenus, drawing Omphale's attention to 
this fact of its hollowness, opens the door in the cur- 
tain, and commands Servus to bear the Sphinx 
within. Servus does so. Silenus, then, pointing to 
the window above the door, whispers in the ear of 
Omphale, who, delighted, enters the door after Ser- 
vus. Silenus closes the door as Hercules reenters, left. 



i8o APPENDIX 

The hero has discarded his woman's garb, and 
comes forward now dressed as a man, with Hon's skin 
and club — his mask changed to one of an exuhant 
and martial expression. 

Silenus greets him with obsequious and cunning 
ser\dlity and offers him wine. Hercules, with good- 
natured hauteur, condescends to accept the cup 
which he offers. While he is drinking, the window 
above in the curtain opens, and Omphale thrusts 
her head out, reveahng [within] beside her own, the 
Sphinx's head. Silenus secretively motions her to 
be cautious. Seeing his gesture, Hercules looks up, 
but not swiftly enough to detect Omphale, who with- 
draws. Again looking forth, as he turns to drink 
again, Omphale mocks Hercules below, dropping 
msps of wool on his head, the source of which, how- 
ever, Hercules fails to detect. Silenus explains that 
the wool is really feathers, which fell from a bird 
flying overhead. 

Hercules now, under the sly persuasions of the old 
Satyr, grows more pleased with the wine, and becomes 
drunk — as he becomes so, expressing to Silenus, 
with increasing familiarity and descriptive force, all 
the mighty exj^loits he intends to accompUsh in the 
service of the incomparable Sphinx, whose living 
prototype he declares he will immediately set forth 
in search of. 



APPENDIX i8i 

Starting now, humorously drunk, to depart [right] 
he is detained by Silenus, who points upward to the 
window, where now the blank, immovable face of the 
Sphinx looks forth at the sky. Hercules, bewildered, 
asks Silenus if it is really the Sphinx herself and alive? 
Silenus assents and proves his assertion by pointing 
to the deserted pedestal. At this, Hercules addresses 
the Sphinx, with impassioned gestures. The Sphinx 
remains immovable. Hercules becomes discour- 
aged. Silenus then puts a pipe in his hand, and tells 
him to play it. He does so, and is rewarded by a 
slow, preternatural look from the Sphinx. At this 
he plays more vociferously and, surrounded by the 
little piping Fauns, performs a serenade beneath the 
casement, while Silenus, looking on from a distance, 
rubs his hands with sly deUght. 

The serenade ends by Hercules, on his knees, im- 
ploring the Sphinx to come down. The Sphinx at 
length consents and the casement closes. Silenus 
calls his Fauns away to the edge of the foliage, and 
Hercules goes to the door. 

For a moment nothmg happens and Hercules 
knocks on the steps impatiently with his club. Then 
the door opens and enter the Sphinx — dressed below 
in the Greek garments of Omphale, but from the 
waist upward consisting of the sitting image of the 
Sphinx, beneath whose closed wings the arms of 



i82 APPENDIX 

Omphale are thrust through and have place for 
motion. 

The Sphinx, its tail swinging behind, descends the 
steps, reticent and impassive, attended by Hercules, 
drunk and enamored. 

Then at the foot of the steps, to the accompani- 
ment from the fohage of the piping Fauns, who play 
softly a variation of the serenade theme, Hercules 
woos the Sphinx, who, at the proper moment, suc- 
cumbs to his entreaties. After embracing him 
amorously, she extends her hand to him. He seizes 
it to kiss; she withdraws it and signifies that he must 
put a ring on the ring-finger. Hercules hunts about 
him in vain for the ring. Calling then to Silenus and 
the Fauns, he explains to them the situation. 

Silenus, producing a ring, hands it to Hercules, 
who puts it on the finger of the Sphinx. 

Instantly a clash of cymbals is heard from the 
left, and a clapping of palms from the right, and re- 
enter the dancing Nymphs, who encircle the scene 
just as Servus removes from the bride the great mask 
of the Sphinx, thereby revealing her to the astounded 
Hercules — as Omphale, who embraces him, exulting 
in her ring. 

Just as she is embracing and kissing him, the 
scene is interrupted by a cr>^ of jealous rage from 



APPENDIX 183 

Caligula who springs from his chariot, calling: 
"Hercules!" At liis gesture slaves run before him, 
seize Hercules, and hale him toward CaUgula, who 
bids them whip him. Frightened, for an instant, 
Omphale [the Mime Naevoleia] then hastens as if 
to intercede, but, seeing CaHgula's expression, taunts 
him with toying bravado, and finally as he kisses her 
makes him burst with her into laughter, as Hercules 
is dragged off through the hooting crowd, flogged by 
Caligula's slaves. [During the latter part of this 
Roman Action, LUST has appeared at the mouth of 
CaHban's cell and looked on. His voice now joins 
the loud laughter of Caligula.] 

Dispersing in confusion, the Pantomime Actors 
remove their curtain and platform [right] into the 
darkness, which now envelops also Caligula and the 
Roman populace. 

END OF INTERLUDE I 



INTERLUDE H 
FIRST ACTION: GERMANIC 

COMMUNITY ACTORS [150] 
Comprise 

Participants [150] 
hidividuals [2] 

Forerunner [Einschreier] Out-crier [Ausschreicr] 

Pantomime Actors [6] Musicians [10] 

Doctor Faustus Ten Pipers 

An Apprentice ^ r, t r- ^ r i 

^/^ Ciymbohc Group [2 2 J 

Lucifer 

Two Devils 

Helena 



Citizens of Nuremberg [no] 
Men and Women [70] 
Apprentices [40] 



Doctors [8] 
Priests [4] 
Artists [9] 
INIelancholia [i] 



THEME 

On a street of Nuremberg, in their Shrovetide fes- 
tival, a band of Apprentices enact, on a wheeled stage, 

184 



APPENDIX 185 

a pantomime scene from an early version of ''Doctor 
Faustus." Time: Sixteenth century. 

ACTION 

At Prospero's final words in Act I, the playing of 
pipes is heard at the right Interlude Gates, where 
enter a band of Apprentices, accompanying a wheeled 
street-stage, drawn by donkeys with beUs and set 
with a three-fold scene of Earth, Heaven, and Hell. 
Some of the Apprentices are masked, some disguised 
as fools. They enter, singing an old German folk 
song, and march to the centre of the ground-circle 
(between the altar and the south entrance) , where the 
stage pauses. Before them has hastened a forerun- 
ner (Einschreier), blowing a horn and shouting: 
" Schauspieler ! Doctor Faustus!" 

Along with them, Pipers accompany their singing. 
Behind them follow folk of Niiremberg, gaping peas- 
ants and merry-making young people. 

From the left gate, meanwhile [in obscurer light], 
enters a graver group, clad symbolically as Doctors 
of Learning, Priests, and Artists, accompanying 
another wheeled vehicle, the stage of which is whoUy 
curtained from view. 

These stop at some distance from the former group, 
and look on from a place of shadow. 

And now, where the first stage has paused in a 



i86 APPENDIX 

place of brighter glow, the Actors appear and begin 
their pantomime. 

Doctor Faustus appears on the Middle Stage, 
Earth. There, amid his astronomical instruments, 
he greets the gaping crowd and points a telescope 
toward the place of Heaven. Suddenly a comet 
flashes above the stage. .\n Apprentice inquires 
the reason. Doctor Faustus explains it by revealing 
its two fathers — the Sun and the Moon, which now 
appear shining simultaneously in Heaven. 

At this sorcer>', Lucifer comes from Hell, signifies 
to Faustus that his hour has come, and that he must 
follow him. Faustus begs a last wish, which Lucifer 
reluctantly grants. He begs to see once more his 
beloved Helena of Troy. 

Then in Heaven appears Helena, who comes to 
Faustus on Earth and embraces him. But now 
Lucifer — summoning two tailed devils with pitch- 
forks — bids them drag Faustus from the arms of 
Helena, who flees back to Heaven, disappearing 
there, as Faustus is prodded and haled to the up- 
bursting flames of Hell, amid the exultant laughter of 
Lucifer. 

At this finale, the stage and its audience moves off 
through the left gate, while the graver Symbolic 
Group — crossing right in deep shadow — pauses at 
the centre. 



APPENDIX 187 

There, for a moment, the curtains of their pageant 
stage are drawn, reveaUng — in mystic Hght — a dim- 
glowing tableau of Albrecht Diirer's Melancholia. 

As this pales into darkness, the Group with its 
curtained stage moves vaguely off, and vanishes 
through the right gate of the Interlude. 



INTERLUDE II 

SECOND ACTION: FRENCH 

COMMUNITY ACTORS [150] 
Comprise 

Participants [50] 
Figurants [100] 

Individuals [4] 
Francis I, of France Heralds [10: Figurants] 

Henry VIII, of England French [5] 
French Tourney-rider English [5] 

English Tourney-rider 

Nobles and Courtiers [88 : Servants and Followers 

Figurants] [48 : Participants] 

French [44] French [24] 

English [44] English [24] 



i88 APPENDIX 

THEME* 

To celebrate Peace between their nations, after 
long war, Francis I of France and Henry VIII of 
England meet on the Field of the Cloth of Gold [A. 
D. 1520], and hold a tournament. 

ACTION 

After the mystic tableau of the Melancholia has 
departed, a peal of trumpets from the Interlude 
gates [right and left] ushers in a pageant of contrasted 
splendor. 

In the left gateway appear the Heralds of the 
French, in the right, of the EngHsh. 

Then [to music of the unseen orchestra, above, 
playing the instrumental music only of the Chorus 
"Glory and Serenity," which later is sung by voices 
in Act II], enter, on horseback, the two Kings, Francis 
I and Henry VIII, accompanied by their Nobles and 
Servants. 

All are clad in golds and yellows. 

On the banners of the EngUsh is depicted St. 
George and the Dragon; on the banners of the 
French — the lilies of France. 



*This Theme inheres in an excerpt from Shakespeare's "King Henry 
VIII," Act I, Scene I, quoted by Ariel as Prologue to the Sixth Inner 
Scene of the Masque, for which the actual dialogue of no Shakespeare 
Scene dealing with France appears so appropriate for the Masque's uses 
as a pantomime based on this excerpt from Henry VIII. 



APPENDIX 189 

The servants set up at centre [just south of Cali- 
ban's cell] a gorgeous canopy with two thrones, in 
which the two Kings, dismounting, take their seats, 
the French followers grouped on the left, the English 
on the right. 

Then to the royal presence, a Herald summons, by 
trumpet call, two Tourney-riders [French and Eng- 
lish], who come riding in armor, from the south gate, 
on horses caparisoned with their national colors and 
symbols. 

Taking their places, at signal again of the Herald, 
to shouts of the spectators, they ride at each other 
with set lances, in a mock battle — which comprises 
two actions. 

In the first action, the French rider is unhorsed, 
in the second, the English rider. 

During both actions, the English cry "St. George 
for England!" the French "Vive la France!" 

Between the two actions, the French King rises 
and toasts the English King, to acclamations of the 
French. 

After the second action, King Henry compliments 
King Francis, to acclamations of the English. 

Then, as the two Kings clasp hands, both sides 
shout aloud: "God save the King!" and "Vive le 
Roi!" raising aloft their banners and emblems. 

At the climax of this demonstration, the invisible 



I90 APPENDIX 

orchestra resumes the march of " Glor>' and Serenity," 
to which the Kings, remounting their horses, ride 
off side by side, followed by their Enghsh and French 
suites, now commingled, disappearing through the 
south gateway. 

INTERLUDE II 
THIRD ACTION: SPANISH-ITALIAN 

COMMUNITY ACTORS [150] 
Comprise 

Participants [150] 
[No Figurants] 

Individuals [2] Improvised Comedy 

The Doge of Venice Actors [6] 

The Spanish Ambassador II Capitano 

Arlecchino 

Venetian Nobles [24] ^ Commandatore 

Spanish Courtiers [24] P^ntalone 

Brighella 
Venetian Populace [94] Columbina 

THEME 

On tlie plaza of St. Marks in Venice [A. D., about 
1630], a troop of Improvised Comedy Actors [of the 
Commedia delV Arte] enact before the Doge and the 



APPENDIX iQi 

Spanish Ambassador, amid the populace, during a 
festa, a pantomime scene depicting an adventure of 
Don Giovanni. 

ACTION 

When the last of the gold-clad French and English 
have departed through the South Gate, a chiming 
of church-bells from the gates of the north [right and 
left] gives signal for the entrance there of an Italian 
Festa. 

From the right, enters the Doge with his Venetian 
nobles, accompanied by the ItaHan populace; from 
the left, the Spanish Ambassador and his Suite, ac- 
companied by a troop of Improvised Comedy Actors, 
who set up a platform on wooden horses before the 
Doge and the Ambassador where they meet and 
greet each other, at right of centre [north]. 

Here six Actors mount the platform, at the back 
of which is a curtain, divided in the middle. 

These are // Capitano [the Captain], Arlecchino 
[Harlequin], // Commandatore [the Commander], 
Pantalone [Pantaloon], BrigheUa, and Columbina 
[Columbine]. They all pass behind the curtain, 
through the folds in the middle. 

After a moment's prelude of stringed instruments, 
then, the Pantomime begins. 

First, in semi-darkness, Harlequin appears, carry- 



IQ2 APPENDIX 

ing a lighted lantern on the end of a sword. At 
a noise of laughter from behind the curtain he stops 
and trembles. The laughter sounds again, deep and 
harsh; Harlequin trembles so violently that the lan- 
tern falls and goes out. 

In the dimness, enter II Capitano in the part of 
Don Giovanni, muffled in an immense cloak. 
Harlequin falls on his back, feigning death, but keep- 
ing his sword pointing upward. Stumbling against 
him, Don Giovanni draws his sword and strikes the 
sword of Harlequin, who leaps up. They begin a 
duel, in the midst of which they suddenly recognize 
each other as friends and embrace. 

Enter now [bringing lanterns, which illumine the 
stage more brightly] Pantaloon and Brighella. 
Both are wrapped in cloaks. 

Greeting Don Giovanni, who returns the greeting, 
Pantaloon explains that he has a rendezvous with a 
beautiful young lady [the head of Columbine having 
peered momentarily through the curtain]; that he 
will make a certain sign to call her; that he must be 
cautious, as she has a fierce and suspicious father. 
Don Giovanni becomes very interested, and confides 
that he, too, must attend a rendezvous, for which he 
needs a disguise. For this, he persuades Pantaloon 
to change cloaks with him. They do so, their serv- 
ants also exchanging cloaks. 



APPENDIX 193 

Exeunt then Pantaloon and Brighella. 

Don Giovanni now, approaching the curtain, makes 
the aforesaid sign described by Pantaloon. At this, 
enter Columbine, who mistakes him for Panta- 
loon and approaches him lovingly. He allows her to 
do so, but soon — opening his cloak — he terrifies her 
by his wrong identity. However, he is handsomer 
than Pantaloon, and quickly wins her for himself. 
In this Harlequin delightedly assists him. 

Finally, just as Columbine succumbs and goes 
to his arms, her father. The Commander, enters. 
Seeing her in Don Giovanni's arms, he bursts into 
terrible anger, draws his sword, and attacks the lover. 
Harlequin tries to prevent him but fails. 

Putting the frightened Columbine behind him, 
Don Giovanni returns the attack with his sword, 
fights and suddenly kills the Commander, who falls 
motionless. 

In terror. Columbine and Harlequin scream and 
run out [through the curtain], leaving Don Giovanni 
standing with one foot and his sword-point prodding 
the dead body. 

To screams and shuddermgs also from the horrified 
onlookers of the populace, darkness falls on the 
stage. 

Then, as suddenly — in a burst of light — the Ac- 
tors come trooping forth all together in laughter, 



194 APPENDIX 

make faces and comic gestures at the people, remove 
their curtain and stage, and run off [right], to merry 
twanging of instruments, followed by the Doge, 
Ambassador, and populace. 

END OF INTERLUDE U 



INTERLUDE III 

In the New York production in May, 1916, the performance of this 
Interlude will be arranged by members of the New York City Centre of 
the U. S. A. Branch of the English Folk Dance Society, under the per- 
sonal direction of Mr. Cecil J. Sharp, who has devised the Action of this 
Interlude, and has worded the description of it — in conference with the 
author — as here printed. 

ELIZABETHAN ENGLAND 

Action Continuous, in 8 Successive Episodes 

COMMUNITY ACTORS [about 400] 
Comprise 

Participants and Figurants 



Individuals 


Tideswell Procession: [100] 


Sun 


May Tree Procession: [100] 


Frost 


Morris Dance Group: [25] 


May Queen 


Dancers: 16 


Hobby Horse Dancer 


Attendants: g 


Club-Man 


Hobby Horse Group: [25] 


Fool 


Dancers: 15 


Witch 


Attendants: 10 


King 


Tumblers and Jugglers: [25] 


Queen 


Rustic Play- Actors: [25] 


Noah 


Winter Group: [50] 


Noah's Wife 


Spring Group: [50] 



195 



196 APP E N DI X 

INTERLUDE III 

THEME 

Celebration of an Elizabethan May Day Festival 
on the outskirts of an English town. 

ACTION 

i: CONTEST BETWEEN SPRING 
AND WINTER 

A group of 25 young men, representing Winter, 
all dressed in close-fitting black garments, enter 
from Caliban's cell. They carry a ball and, com- 
manded by one of their number— Frost — advance 
slowly and dejectedly and lie down near the centre 
of the ground guarding the ball. A group of 25 
young men, dressed in tight-fitting green garments, 
representing Spring, enter through the right Inter- 
lude Gate. Headed by one of their number — Sun — 
they come forward running and shouting. Winter* 
rise and stand in defence of the ball. A scuffie 
ensues and the ball is released from the scrimmage. 
It is then kicked about by both sides. Spring trying 
to force it toward the water, f Winter repelling it 
therefrom. Sun and Frost encourage their respec- 



*The words Winter and Spring refer to the respective Groups. 
fThe water is represented by the blue ground, beyond the verge of 
the Yellow Sands. 



APPENDIX 197 

tive supporters but do not touch the ball. Groups of 
villagers come in, by twos and threes [20 to 25 in 
number], and join the ranks of Spring, who are thus 
enabled to overpower Winter. Eventually, one of 
the Spring group secures the ball, holds it aloft and, 
surrounded by his followers, runs toward the water. 
Winter follow, fatigued and languid. As the Spring 
man approaches the water, maidens, 10 or 12 in 
number, enter from various quarters and swell the 
group. The ball is then raised and ceremonially 
thro\vn into the water; whereupon, the girls join 
Spring in hunting Winter back again into their cave. 

2: PROCESSIONAL DANCE THROUGH 
VILLAGE 

While Winter is being driven off the arena, a pro- 
cession of Villagers, comprising 50 couples [i. e., part- 
ners], enter through South Interlude Gate and dance 
the Tideswell Processional Morris. The dancers 
include men, women, and children of all classes and 
are dressed in their holiday clothes, plentifully be- 
decked with flowers and ribbons. Each carries two 
handkerchiefs, one in each hand, or, if preferred, 
boughs of May blossom. They dance romid the 
arena in a spiral until the front couple reach the cen- 
tre; whereupon, all raise their arms and shout on the 
last chord of the tune. Spring and all the actors 



igS APPENDIX 

already on the ground join in the procession at the 
rear, or wherever they can squeeze in. 

3: REVELS AND AMUSEMENTS 

Upon the completion of the dance, the dancers 
disperse noisily all over the ground. The children 
play Singing Games, e. g., "Oats and Beans," "Here 
We Come Gathering Nuts (i. e. Knots) in May," 
"Old Sir Roger," etc., in different parts of the ground 
— not too close together. Booths and stalls are 
brought in, a rustic stage* is set up, tumblers and 
jugglers, surrounded by groups of spectators, give 
their performances, and all unite in a scene of general 
merriment. Couples, each consisting of a boy and a 
girl, carr\^ May garlands, sing May day songs, and 
solicit offerings. The young men chase the girls and 
kiss them "under the green," i. e., while raising the 
boughs of green over their heads. 

4: MAY POLE PROCESSION 

The following procession enters from South Inter- 
lude Gate. 

[i] Two Jack-O'-Greens 
[2] Plough-boys with plough. 
[3] Sowers. 
[4] Reapers. 

*Here the play-actors enact a scene from the old play of "Noah's 
Flood." 



APPENDIX 199 

[5] Wagon, drawn by several yoke of oxen, car- 
r}'ing the tree. 
[6] Milkmaids. 
[7] Blacksmiths. 
[8] Wheelwrights. 
[9] Carpenters. 
[10] Butchers. 
[11] Shoemakers. 

[i] Hidden in bushes of green, surmounted by a 
May Garland. 

[2] White smocks, patched with pictures, in red 
and black cloth, representing farm-animals. Hats 
covered with flowers, their plough smothered with 
ribbons and flowers. 

[3] Carrying baskets of grain, pretending to sow. 

[4] With reaping hooks or sickles. 

[5] Wagon and oxen decorated with greenery and 
ribbons, the horns of the oxen with flowers. The 
carters, who walk on either side of the wagon, wear 
broad-brimmed hats, short smocks, breeches, all 
covered with ribbons and flowers, and carry whips 
or goads similarly decorated, mth which they urge 
on the oxen. 

[6] Carrying pails and dishes; wearing short 
dresses, and sun-hats or bonnets, all covered with 
flowers and ribbons. 



20O APPEN DI X 

[7] With bare heads, leathern aprons, carrying 
implements of trade — hammers, anvils, tongs. 

[8] Carr}dng or rolling wheels. 

[9] With saws, planes, tools, etc. 

[10] Wearing blue blouses, carrying marrow bones 
and cleavers, and clashing them as they march. 

When the wagon reaches the May-pit, the proces- 
sion halts. The tree is ceremonially removed, iv}', 
laurels, and other greener}- wound round it spirally, 
a large bunch of flowers placed at the top, and then, 
in dead silence, solemnly raised to position. Di- 
rectly this is accomplished, the spectators raise a great 
shout and repeat it three times: "The Pole is up." 

5: ELECTION OF MAY QUEEN, AND MAY 
POLE DANCE 

The men disperse in groups and, after some dis- 
cussion and altercation, proceed in a body to the 
woman of their choice, present her with a wreath of 
May blossom, with ribbon streamers and rosettes 
for her dress, and escort her to a raised mound of 
grass where every one may see her. She is kissed 
"under the green" by the men, amid much laughter 
and merriment. The woman chosen is a regular 
"man's girl," jolly and of a romping kind, quite 
different from the conventional May Queen. 

A large group is formed round the May pole in 



APPENDIX 20I 

a ring, alternately men and women, and all take 
liands. The May pole dance is then performed — 
"Sellenger's Round" and "Gathering Peascods." 

6: HOBBY HORSE AND PADSTOW MA Y SONG 

The hobby horse is made in the following way: 
A wooden hoop, about 3 feet in diameter, is covered 
with black canvas with a hole in the centre, about 
the size of a man's head. The canvas is edged with 
red and white ribbon round the circumference, and 
depends from the edges about 4 feet like a curtain. 
The hoop is then placed on a man's shoulders, his 
head, hidden in a tall conical mask of many colors, 
passing through a hole in the centre of the canvas, 
the curtain hiding his body and legs. In the front 
of the hoop is a long, slender horse's head, made of 
wood, and at the back of the hoop is attached a curly 
horse's tail about 18 inches long. The horse is 
accompanied by the "Club-man" who is dressed 
in black, covered with rosettes and bows of colored 
ribbon, and wears a grotesque mask similar to that of 
the hobby horse. Throughout the proceedings, he 
faces the Horse and dances backward, holding in 
his right hand a stout, nobbed club, about 18 to 24 
inches in length, colored like the mask. 

The hobby horse enters from the left Interlude 
Gate, escorted by six or eight couples of men, gaily 



202 APPENDIX 

dressed and decorated with flowers, singing the May 
song, in which the assembled spectators join. As 
they make their appearance, the crowd runs out, 
meets them, and surrounds them in a ring, in the 
middle of which the horse and its attendant dance, 
the former every now and again dashing out and 
trying to catch one of the maidens, who, with much 
laughter, usually succeeds in avoiding his clumsy 
embraces. WTien the tune has been sung a few times, 
a shght pause is made, the horse sinks down with his 
head on the ground, the club-man drops on one knee 
and places his club on the horse's nose, wliile the 
crowd sing very solemnly the dirge-like strain, ''O 
Where is St. George?" At the conclusion of this, a 
slight pause is made and then the riotous May song 
is suddenly taken up and the dance resumed. This 
may be repeated once or twice, when the proceedings 
are interrupted by the entrance of the 

7: MORRIS DANCERS 

The dancers, all of them men, are 16 in number and 
are accompanied by a King and Queen, Witch and 
Fool, and Hobby horses. The Witch and Fool head 
the procession, the former with his broom, and the 
latter with his stick, fox's tail, and bladder clearing 
the way. The King and Queen march at the head 
of the Morris dancers, the King beating time with 



APPENDIX 203 

his sword. The Hobby horses prance round and aid 
the Witch and Fool in clearing a passage. The 
dancers move forward, dancing the "Winster Pro- 
cessional Dance." When the procession has reached 
a good position in the centre, the tune changes and 
without pause the dancers perform the ''Winster 
Morris Reel," "The Old Woman Tossed up in a 
Blanket." 

For the dresses of the dancers see photographs in 
The Morris Book [parts II and III]. The Witch is a 
man dressed in bedraggled woman's clothes, with 
face blackened, and carries a short besom. The 
Fool has a pork-pie hat covered with flowers and 
feathers, tunic, to the hips, of bright multi-colored 
stuff edged with silver fringe, buckskin breeches, 
stockings of odd colors, and bells round the ankles. 
He carries a stick with a fox's tail at one end and a 
bladder at the other. Sometimes he has a dinner- 
bell attached to the middle of his back. The King 
and Queen are serious characters, the latter being 
represented by a man dressed in woman's clothes. 
The King carries a sword and should be dressed in the 
military dress of the period: the Queen is grandly 
dressed, with a touch of comic extravagance, in the 
garb of a court lady of the period. The Hobby 
horses — say half a dozen in number — are of the 
"tournament" variety, and carry sticks and bladders. 



204 APPENDIX 

S: COUNTRY DANCES AND RECESSIONAL 

When the Morris dance is finished, the company 
disperses and amuses itself for a while until the pipe- 
and-taborers make their appearance. This is a sig- 
nal for every one to find a partner for a country dance. 
Groups are formed all over the ground and "The 
Black Nag" is performed, followed by a Longways 
dance, e. g., "Row well, ye mariners." On the con- 
clusion of the latter, the dancers, who are aheady 
in processional formation, dance off the ground to 
the "Helston Ferry Processional Dance," disappeai-- 
ing in different groups through the several exits. 



EPILOGUE 
ACTION: INTERNATIONAL AND SYMBOLIC 

THEME 

In three main, symbolic groups — Theatres, Actors, 
Dramatists — The Spirit of Time summons the cre- 
ative forces of the art of the theatre, to defeat the 
destructive influences of War, Lust, and Death, and 
prophetically to survive them. 

ACTION* 

First, from the two gates [right and left] of the 
ground-circle, the Pageant of Theatres enters in two 
processions, which group themselves [right and left 
of Cahban's ceU] on the flight of steps and ramps 
leading to Stage B. 

Secondly, through the mouth-entrances of the 
Masks of Comedy and of Tragedy, the Comic Actors 
[through the former] and the Tragic Actors [through 
the latter] enter upon stage B, cross before Prospero 



*The Action here described, like that of all the preceding Interludes, 
is simply a preliminary outline, subject to modification and develop- 
ment at rehearsals. 

205 



2o6 APPEN DI X 

and take their stations, with their respective The- 
atres, on the steps and ramps. 

Thirdly, the Dramatists, of Comedy and Tragedy, 
do likewise. 

In this procession of the Dramatists, occurs the 
pantomime and stage business of the meeting between 
Prospero and Shakespeare. 

After the procession of Dramatists, all three main 
groups are enveloped by darkness, in which — after 
the final choir of Ariel's spirits — they disperse, un- 
seen. 

EPILOGUE 

COMMUNITY ACTORS [300] 
Comprise 

SPECIALS: 300 

Theatres: Total 100 persons [25 groups] 
Actors: " 100 " 

Dramatists: " 100 " 



*Grand total 300 " 

From the following lists of Theatres, Actors, and 
Dramatists, revised and modified, the final groups 

*With this number several hundred of the Interlude participants and 
Masque figurants are to be correlated in the final ensemble. 



APPENDIX 207 

will be selected. The lists, as here given, are merely 
preliminary, and have been sketched in, during the 
printing of this Appendix, so as not to be wholly 
omitted from the publication of this edition. As far 
as they concern the New York production of the 
Masque, they are not to be construed as anything more 
than suggestive material for the necessarily impression- 
istic pageant-groups of the Epilogue. 

THEATRES 

ANCIENT GREECE 

Theatre of Dionysus at Athens, Epidaurus, 
Ephesus, Sicyon. 

ANCIENT ROME 

Theatre of Pompey, Scarrus, Balbus Cornelius, 
Marcellus. 

Provincial Theatres 

Antioch, Lyons, Herculaneum, Orange. 

CONSTANTINOPLE 

Hippodrome, of Emperor Septimius Severus. 

ITALY 

Florence della Pergola 

Venice Fenice 



2oS AP PEN DI X 

Genoa Carlo Felice 

Milan La Scala 

Vicenza Olympian Theatre 

PORTUGAL 
Lisbon San Carlos 

FRANCE 

Hotel du Burgoyne, Comedie Francaise, Palais 
Royal, Odeon, Porte St. Martin, Antoine. 

AUSTRIA 
Vienna Burgteater 

GERMANY 

Weimar, Deutsches, Lessing. 

RUSSIA 

Art Theatre, Warsaw; Kremlin, Moscow. 

AMERICA 

New York 
Booth's, Bowery, Wallack's, Daly's. 

Boston 
Federal Street, Boston Theatre, Boston Museum. 



AP P E N DI X 209 

Philadelphia 
Arch Street, Walnut Street, Chestnut Street. 

Chicago 



McVicker's. 
CaHfornia. 
Ford's. 
St. Charles. 



San Francisco 
Washington 
New Orleans 
ENGLAND 



Globe, Bankside, Bear Garden, Hope, Swan, 
Drury Lane, Haymarket, Covent Garden. 

Dublin 
Smock Alley. 

ACTORS 

GREECE 

Thespis, Polus [of Aegina], Aristodemus, Neop- 
tolemus, Thessalus, Athenodorus, Cleander, Myn- 
niscus [of Chalcis], CaUipides, Timotheus, 

ROME 

Esopus, Roscius, C. Publilius, Ambivius Turpio, 
Haitihus Praenestinus, Bathyllus, Pylades, Publilius 
Syrus. 



2IO APPENVIX 

ITALY 

[Actors] Domenico Biancolelli, Luigi Riccoboni, 
Nicola Barbieri, Francesco Andreini, Fiorelli, Tom- 
masino, Salvini, Madena, Rossi. 

[Actresses] Sedowsky, Isabella Andreini, Ristori. 

SPAIN 

[Actors] Lope de Rueda, Navarro of Toledo, 
Alonso de Olmedo, Sebastian de Prado, Isidoro 
Maiquez, Jose Valero, Julian Romea, Rafael Calvo, 
Antonio Vico. 

[Actresses] La Baltasara, La Calderona, La Pach- 
eca, La Tirana, Rita Luna, Matilde Diez. 

FRANCE 

[Actors] Jodelet, Harduin, Rodogune, Talma, Got, 
LeKain, INIole, Freville, Baron, Montfleury, Lemaitre, 
Coquelin, Mounet Sulley. 

[Actresses] Dangville, Rachel, George, Mars, Des 
Oeillets, Bejart, Champmesle, Lecouvreur, Dumes- 
nil, Clairon, David. 

HOLLAND 

[Actors] Louis Bouwmeister, Willem Haverkorn, 
Johannes Haverkamp, Andries Snoek. 
[Actresses] ]Mme, Wattier. 



APPENDIX 211 

GERMANY 

[Actors] Possart, Barnay, Kainz, Iffland, Konrad, 
Ekkof, Dawison, Lewinsky, Dohring, Ackerman, 
Carl Bonn, Dalberg, L. Dessoit, Anschutz, Hasse, 
Beckmann, Gabillon. 

[Actresses] Sonnenthal, Devrient, Schroder, Caro- 
lina Neuber, Charlotte Wolter, Julie Rettich, Julie 
Lowe, Carolina Bauer, Geistinger, Zitt, Raabe, 
Buske, Fleck, Brockmann, Matkowsky, Dingel- 
stedt, Borchers. 

[SCANDINAVIA] 

DENMARK 

[Actors] Ludwig Phister, Christen N. Rosenkilde, 
Nicolai Nielsen, Emil Poulsen, Michael Wieke, 
Michael Rosing. 

[Actresses] Johanne Louise Heiberg, Anna Neilsen, 
Julie Sodring. 

SWEDEN 

[Actors] Fredrik Deland, Ebba Hwasser, Pierre 
Deland, Karl Georg Dahlquist. 

NORWA Y 

[Actors] Johannes Brun, Henrik Klausen. 
[Actresses] Laura Gundersen, Lucie Wolf, Sophie 
Pavelius. 



212 APPENDIX 

RUSSIA 

[Actors] V. Samoilov, N. Samoilov, Nikitin, Ershov, 
Lenski, Karatygina (family), M. S. Shchepkin, 
Krapivnitzki. 

[Actresses] Fedotava, Vyera Samortova, Savina, 
Karatygina (family), Kommissaryhevskaya, E. P. 
Struyskaya. 

AMERICA 

[Actors] Junius Brutus Booth, Jas. Wallack, Ed- 
win Forrest, Edwin Booth, Lester Wallack, Wm. 
Warren, John McCulloch, Lawrence Barrett, E. A. 
Sothern, Jos. Jefferson, Wm. Florence, James A. 
Hackett, John Gilbert, Edward L. Davenport, Wm. 
B. Wood, T. A. Cooper, Wilson Barrett, Rignold, 
Chas. Wheatley, MacKean, Buchanon, James Mur- 
dock, J. B. Roberts, Williamson, Whiffin, Tony 
Pastor, Hart, Harrigan, Stuart Robson, John T. Ray- 
mond, Denman Thompson, Maurice Barrymore, 
Richard Mansfield. 

[Actresses] Charlotte Cushman, Mrs. John Drew, 
Modjeska, Matilda Heron, Mme. Ponisi, "Laura 
Keene, Fannie Davenport, Ada Rehan. 

GREAT BRITAIN 

[Actors] Burbage, Betteron, Colley Cibber, Gar- 
rick, Macready, Edmund Kean, Tyrone Power, 
Samuel Phelps, Buckstone, Charles Macklin, Samuel 



APPENDIX 213 

Foote, Tate Wilkinson, Barry, Quinn, Henderson, 
John Philip Kemble, Robert Wilks, Thomas Sheri- 
dan, Henry Mossop, John Liston, William Betty, 
Henry Irving, Lawrence Irving. 

[Actresses] Nance Oldfield, Mrs. Betterton, Mrs. 
Momitfort, Mrs. Bracegirdle, Nell Gwynne, Mrs. 
Siddons, Peg Woffington, Fanny Kemble, Hannah 
Pritchard, Mrs. Abington, Mrs. Jordan, George 
Anne Bellamy, Helen Barry, Helen Faucit, Kather- 
ine Clive, Mrs. Farren. 

DRAMATISTS 

GREECE 

[Tragedy] Aeschylus, Choerilus, Pratinas, Phry- 
nichus, Sophocles, Euripides, Carcinus, Chaeremon. 

[Comedy] Phormis [of Maenalus], Epicharmus, 
Susarion, Chionides, Aristophanes, Eupolis, Magnes, 
Philemon, Menander, Rhinthon, ApoUodorus, Diph- 
ilus, Posidippus. 

ROME 

[Tragedy] Livius Andronicus, Accius, Pacuvius, 
Asinius PoUis, Varius, Ovid, Seneca, Curiatius 
Maternus, J. Caesar Strabo. 

[Comedy] Plautus, Terence, Ennius, Statius Caecil- 
ius, Lavinius, Naevius, Melissus, Afranius, Laberius, 
Pomponius, Atta. 



214 APPENDIX 

ITALY 

[Tragedy] Ariosto, Manzoni, Alfieri, Nicolini, 
Tasso. 

[Comedy] Metastasio, Martelli, Maffei, Gozzi, 
Pindemonti, Monti, Flavio, Goldoni. 

SPAIN AND PORTUGAL 

[Spain] Cervantes, Lope de Vega, Calderon, Alar- 
con, Gongora, Argensola, Moreto, de Hoz, Cani- 
zarez, Luzan, Huerta. 

[Portugal] Saa de Miranda, Gil Vincente, Ferreira, 
Garcao. 

FRANCE 

Etienne Jodelle, Gamier, Larivey, Montcretien, 
Hardi, Viaud, Scuderi, Corneille, Boisrobert, Chev- 
reau, Scarron, de Bergerac, Quinault, Moliere, 
Boursault, Racine, Voltaire, THermite, Rotrou, 
Crebillon, Le Sage, Beaumarchais, Longpierre, Fon- 
tenelli. La Motte, Legrand, Destouches, Marivaux, 
Sardou, Hugo, Dumas, Scribe, Zola, Legouve, Augier, 
Halevy, Le Maitre, De Vigny. 

HOLLAND 

Hooft, Brederoo, Vondel, Vos, Goes, Pels, Asselijn, 
van Focquenbroch, Bilderdijk. 



APPENDIX 215 

GERMANY 

Hans Sachs, Gryphius, Gottshed, Klopstock, 
Wieland, Herder, Kozebue, Hafner, Goethe, Schiller, 
Lessing, Novalis, Arnim, Hoffmann, Hrotsvitha of 
Gandersheim, KLleist, Grillparzer, Schlegel, Freytag, 
Heyse, Gutzkow, Wagner, Werner, Korner, KJinge- 
mann, Uhland, Chamisso, Arndt, Heine, Grabbe, 
Immermann, Weise, Grinunelohausen, Klinger, Lud- 
wig, Laube, Holm, Giebel, Wildenbruch, Angen- 
gruber, Nestroy, Raimund. 

SCANDINAVIA 

Holberg, Oehlenschlager, J. L. Heiberg, Bjorn- 
son, Wessel, Ewald, Hauch, Hostrup, Hertz, Palu- 
dan-Miiller, Overskou, Ibsen, Lidner, Tegner, Rune- 
berg, Blanche, Strindberg, Kielland, Lie. 

RUSSIA 

Sumarokoff, Catherine II, Von Viezin, Krilov, 
Astrovski, Pushkin, Gogol, Tolstoi, Tchekhof, Grib- 
oyedov. 

AMERICA 

Royal Tyler, John Howard Payne, Boker, Long- 
fellow, Wm. Young, N. P. Willis, Dion Boucicault, 
John Brougham, Augustin Daly, Steele MacKaye, 



2i6 APPENDIX 

Broiison Howard, James A. Heme, Clyde Fitch, 
William Vaughn JNIoody. 

GREAT BRITAIN 

Beaumont, Fletcher, Jonson, Shirley, Greene, 
Peele, Webster, Ford, Massinger, Middleton, Hey- 
wood, Lyly, Marlowe, Shakespeare, Dekker, Mars- 
ton: — Dr>'den, Wycherley, Congreve, Vanbrugh, 
Otway, Etheredge, d'Urfey, Farquhar, d'Avenant, 
Sedley, Lacy, Shadwell, Crowne, Steele, Addison, 
Rowe: — Goldsmith, Sheridan, Fielding, Shelley: — 
Knowles, Lytton, Robertson, Tennyson, Browning, 
Reade, Taylor, Wilde: — Phillips, Synge, Hankin, 
Davidson. 



ANNOUNCEMENTS 

Information for Communities, Clubs, Societies, and Drama 
League Centres throughout the Coxmtry about 

Mr. PERCY MACKAYE'S 



SHAKESPEARE TERCENTENARY MASQUE 

Entitled 
" CALIBAN: B Y THE YELLOW SANDS " 

Doubleday, Page & Company have pleasure in 
announcing Mr. MacKaye's Masque, which in many 
respects has become the national tribute of the New 
York Shakespeare Celebration, the Shakespeare Na- 
tional Memorial Committee, and The Drama League 
of America for the anniversary of 191 6. 

The publication of the Masque has been hurried 
as much as possible in order to give communities, 
societies, colleges, and Drama League centres through- 
out the country an opportunity to read the text and 
thus arrange their celebrations in harmony with the 
Masque. 

The first performances of the Masque will be given 
by the New York Shakespeare Celebration during the 
week of May 23d, when it will be enacted out of 

217 



2i8 APPENDIX 

doors, at night, in the City College Stadium adapted 
to seat about 20,000 spectators. There several 
thousand citizens of New York will take part in con- 
junction with a body of actors of national repute. 
It will then be released for use by other communities 
or societies on June ist. Immediately after the 
close of the New York performances, a professional 
company wiU take the Masque on the road for presen- 
tation by them in conjunction with community and 
club groups throughout the country. The profes- 
sional company wiU fill the leading parts and take 
with them a complete outfit of scenery and properties. 
For fuU particulars, address the Chairman of the 
National Circuit Committee, 736 Marquette Bldg., 
Chicago, 111., or, Augustin Duncan, 50 West 12th St., 
New York City. 

Amateur performances of the Masque may also be 
given after June ist, without the aid of the profes- 
sional company, by making proper arrangements 
for securing permission. FuU directions for amateur 
performances, or for public readings where seats are 
sold, may be had from Miss Alice Houston, National 
Headauarters, Drama League of America, Chicago, 
lU. 

The Drama League of America strongly recom- 
mends to its centres the use of the Masque as the 
special League reading for April. The text will be 



APF E X D I X 219 

available in two editions: Paper at 50 cents and 
Cloth at $1.25 or thereabouts. 

The Drama League hopes to establish in the near 
future a Pageant Series, similar to the Play Series, of 
which "Caliban" by Mr. MacKaye would be the 
first volume. 



REMEMBER THESE POINTS 

"CALIBAN: BY THE YELLOW SANDS'' 

By Percy MacKaye. A National tribute to 
Shakespeare for 1916. Endorsed by the Drama 
League of America. 

FIRST PERFORMANCE 

New York, May 23d, by citizens and notable 
group of professional actors, 

RELEASED FOR GENERAL USE 

June I St. Acting rights may be secured as indi- 
cated below: — 

PERFORMANCES BY COMMUNITIES OR 
CLUBS WITH PROFESSIONAL COMPANY 
Full particulars may be had by addressing Miss 
Alice M. Houston, Chairman Circuit Committee, 
Drama League of America, 1426 Forest Ave., 
Evanston, 111. 



220 APPENDIX 

ALL- AMATEUR PERFORMANCES 

Full particulars ma}' be had by addressing Miss 
Clara Fitch, Chairman Shakespeare Tercentenary 
Committee, 736 Marquette Bldg., Chicago, 111. 

PUBLIC READINGS WHERE SEATS ARE 

SOLD 

For particulars address Miss Houston (as above). 

THE PRINTED BOOK OF THE MASQUE 
Paper edition 50 cents. Cloth edition $1.25 net. 
For sale every\vhere at book shops or by Double- 
day, Page & Company, Garden City, New York. 



New York City 
Shakespeare Tercentenary Celebration 



CIVIC ORGANIZATION 



MISS MARY PORTER BEEGLE, Chairman 



MRS. AXEL O. IHLSENG, Executive Secretary 

10 East 43d Street, New York City 

Telephone, Murray Hill 9745 

Supplementary Celebrations Chairman of Finance 

MISS KATE OGLEBAY, Chairman MR. W. FORBES MORGAN, Jr. 

MISS FERN CLAWSON, Vice- Executive Chairman 

Chairman MR. EVERARD THOMPSON 



Advisory on Forms of Celebrations 
MISS JOSEPHINE BEIDERHASE 
MISS FRANCES E. CLARKE 
MR. ARTHUR FARWELL 
MR. WM. CHAUNCY LANGDON 
MISS AZUBAH LATHAM 
MISS CONSTANCE MACKAY 



Masque Committee Chairman 

MRS. SIMEON FORD 

Music 

MR. HARRY BIRNBAUM 



Organizing Director of the Masque 
Mr. GARNET HOLME 
Telephone, Greeley 1137 



Board of Directors 



Prof. Allan Abbott 

Miss Mary Porter Beegle 

Dr. William E. Bohn 

Cranston Brenton 

John Collier 

Miss Laura Sedgwick Collins 

Mrs. August Dreyer 

Max Eastman 

Mrs. William Einstein 

Mrs. Simeon Ford 

Mrs. Daniel Guggenheim 

Mrs. J. Norman de 



Dr. George F. Kunz 
Howard Kyle 
Miss Olivia Leventritt 
Mrs. Philip M. Lydig 
W. Forbes Morgan, Jr. 
Mrs. M. Fairchild Osborn 
Miss Florence Overton 
Rev. Dr. Joseph Silverman 
Prof. Edmund Bronk Southwick 
Mr. M. J. Stroock 
Mr. Everard Thompson 
R. Whitehouse 



22X 



THE SHAKESPEARE CELEBRATION 

will present 

in the Lewisohn Stadium of the College of the City of New York 
on the nights of May 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 1916, at Eight O'clock 

The Communily Masque 

CALIBAN 
By the Yellow Sands 

PRODUCTION STAFF 

Author and Director 
Percy MacKa\'e 

Composer and Director of Music 
Arthur Farwell 

Producers 
Joseph Urban 
Richard Ordynski 

Desigmr of Intier Scenes 
Robert Edmond Jones 

Director of Interludes 
GAR>fET Holme 

Director of Costumes 
Mrs. John W. Alexander 

Director of Dances 

Mrs. Robert Anderson 

Staff Assistant 

H-VZEL MacKa\'E 

Office of the Director: 529 Marbridge Bldg. (34lh St. & 6th Ave.); 
telephone, Greeley 1137. 

For particulars regarding Tickets, etc., communication should be made 
with the office of the Shakespeare Celebration, 10 East 43d St., New York. 
Telephones, Murray Hill 9745 and 4158. 



THE MAYOR'S HONORARY COMMITTEE 

For the New York Shakespeare Celebration 
OTTO H. KAHN, Chairman. 



Herbert Adams 
Dr Felix Adler 
Jacob P. Abler 
John G. Agar 
Robert Aitken 
WiNTHROP Ames 
DoNN Barber 
Joseph Barondess 
Mrs. August Belmont 

GUTZON BORGLUM r_„^jj 

Chancellor Elmer E. Brown 

Kenry Bruere 

Arnold Brunner i>,ttifr 

Pres. Nicholas Murray Butler 

Abraham Cahan p„.^n,„R 

Mrs. William Astor Chandler 

WiLLLAM M. Chase 

Joseph H. Choate 

Thomas W. Churchill 

Paul D. Cravath 

John D. CRiMfflNS 

George Cromwell 

R Fulton Cutting 

Walter Damrosch 

R. S. Davis 

Henry P. Davison 

Robt W. deforest 

Mrs. Camden C. Dike 

A. J. Dittenhoefer 

Cleveland H. Dodge 

Caroline B. Dow 

Frank L. Dowlinc 

Mrs. H. Edward Dreier 

Max Eastman 

Samuel H. Evms 

John H. Finley 

Ned Arden Flood 

Daniel C. French 

Charles Dana Gibson 

Bertram C. Goodhue 

Rt. Rev. David H. Greer 

Jules Guerin 

Mrs Daniel Guggenheim 

Mrs Benjamin Guiness 

Norman Hapgood 

Mrs J Borden Harriman 

WiLLLAM Laurel Harris 

Col. George Harvey 

Timothy Healy 

A Barton Hepburn 

Morris Hilloltit 

James P. Holland 



Rev John Haynes Holmes 

Frederic C. Howe 

Arthur Curtiss James 

Mrs. Paul Kennaday 

Dr j J. Kindred 

Darwin P. Kingsley 

Lee Kohns 

Dr. George F. Kunz 

Thomas W. Lamont 

Dr Henry M. Leipsiger 

Adolph Lewisoht^ 

M. J. Lavelle, V.(j. 

Walter Lippmann 

Philip Lydig 

Clarence H. Mackay 

Miss Elizabeth Marbury 

Edwin Markham 

Miss Helen Marot 

Dr Brander Matthews 

Rev. Howard Meush 

Dr. Appleton Morgan 

T p. Morgan 

Dr Henry Moskowitz 

Adolph S. Ochs 

Ralph Pulitzer 

Percy R. Pyne, 2a 

W. C. Reick 

Elihu Root 

Edward A. Rumely 

Jacob M. Schiff 

Mortimer L. Schiff 

James Speyer 

Francis Lynde Stetson 

Frederic A. Stokes 

J G. Phelps Stokes 

Josef Stransky 

Oscar S. Straus 

Augustus Thomas 

Louis Untermeyer 

Mrs William K. Vanderbilt 

Oswald Garrison Villard 

Miss Lillian D. Wald 

Dr. James J. Walsh 

Cabot Ward 

T Alden Weir 

Charles D. Wetmore 

Edward J. Wheeler 

F W. Whitridge 

Thomas W. Whittle 

George Wickersham 

William G. Willcox 

Dr Stephen S. wise 

H. J. Weight 



223 




THE COUNTRY LIFE PRESS 
GARDEN CITY, N. Y. 



S-^ 



